Putting Out the Fire With Kerosene: Hans Landa-Inglourious Basterds
by WhiteNoisePhantom
Summary: Its been over a year into the German occupation of France, the Basterds have settled themselves in place about to begin their bloodbath. But in the middle of this is young Catherine, where her alegences lie are the subject of interest of "The Jew Hunter" Colonel Hans Landa ((COMPLETE))
1. Part One

**_Putting Out the Fire With Kerosene: Chapter One  
Hans Landa / Inglourious Basterds_**

_One wrong move can cut you down,_

_one slip of the tongue can cost you your life,_

_and really all you do is simply add fuel to the fire._

* * *

Part One:

Hans looked down at the musky floorboards, an indifferent expression on his face. He handed an officer his Lugar pistol, kneeling down. It remineded him of Shosanna, seeing holes in the floor boards. Death was always surrounding him, he didn't mind much anymore. Finally he stood up, there was dead silence in the room.

"Well our work here is done gentlemen." He said to the soldiers standing idly at the door. Hans smiled at the owner of the small house, "Auf Weidersehen herr Lafever." He said beaming, the dimples in his smile pressed deeper.

He placed his cap on his head walking out without another word to the man; his men followed, looking much like a group of ducks walking in a neat orderly row behind their colonel.

"Herr Oberst!" (Colonel!) Called out one of the soldiers straggling behind holding a girl roughly by the arm.

"Das Mädchen war versteckt in der Büschen, Standartenführer."-this girl was hiding in the bushes Colonel- He said, ramming his elbow into the girl's side to stop her from squirming.

"Lass mich Gehen du bastard!"-Let me go you bastard!- She snarled, jerking her arm from his grip. Her fist hit the soldier square in the jaw, giving her ample time to escape. The girl took three steps forward; only to trip on her own footing landing in the dirt infront of Hans.

"Bonjour mademoiselle," he said, a rather mocking cheeriness to his voice.

"Standartenführer! Was tun sie will zu tun mit die Mädchen?" -Colonel, What do you want to do with the girl?- Asked one of the soldiers rubbing his swelling jaw, his eyes burning with deep disgust at the girl.

The colonel waved off the question, instead moving down to her level, looking her dead in the eyes.

"Was its dein Namen Fräulein?" -What is your name miss- he asked his voice a little lower than before.

"Catherine Herr Oberst." She replied, biting heavily and hard on her bottom lip. Her reply came out mostly as a mumble.

"Danke, Komm mit Mir schatz." -Thank You, Come with me dear- He took her quivering hand, pulling her on to her feet.

Catherine was shaking like a leaf in winter as her hand laid in the colonel's. she knew who he was, how could she not? The infamous 'Jew Hunter' of France. The master, inescapable detective. No one ever seemed to pass under his nose, or at least live long enough to tell about it.

"Es ist so kalt aus heir!" -its so cold out here- she muttered, reluctantly beginning to walk with Hans. The simple remark on the wether was all she could do to keep her mind occupied. She dared not try to escape. The look in the colonel's eyes made her think twice about running. Because under that sweet, benevolent smile was a hawk ready to strike at a moments notice. She would be dead before she could begin to pray, or even scream.

Hans chuckled lowly at her comment, his gray eyes flashing with a hint of amusement, maybe even pity. He pushed her by her shoulders in front of him, Catherine did not protest. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his coat, latching her wrists together.

The pair walked to the car, Hans behind Catherine, his hand placed firmly on the chain on her wrists.

"Spiel nicht mit mir mädchen" -Don't play with me now girl- he said playfully, opening the door to the car.

Catherine said nothing, but the informal address bit at her. Only moments ago he referred to her as a woman, now he was back to calling her a child. This man's humor was odd to her to say the least.

"Nachtdem Sie mein liebeling." -After you my darling-

She couldn't say anything, what does one say to something like that. Oh this man was one to tease. Catherine slid into the car, feeling cool leather settle under her thighs. The smell was that distinctly of the colonel; this must have been his personal vehicle. Hans waved off to the lingering soldiers, and they walked off to their bikes. He smiled, getting in the car, sitting next to Catherine.

"Bist du jüdische fräulein?" -are you Jewish?- he asked, a grin pressed hard on his face.

Catherine's eyes shot open, she could hardly gain her composure to answer.

"Nein! Nein, Herr Oberst! Ich bin Katholische!" -No! No colonel! I'm catholic!- she could hardly get enough air in her lungs to expel her answer as quick as she wanted to. Her heart was pounding so hard now that it felt as if it would burst any moment now.

Hans simply laughed, enjoying his little joke. He had a line of dark humor ever now and then.

"Tut mir leid, Ich necken rau." -I'm sorry, I tease rough- He said at the end of his laugh. The look on Catherine's face only served to make him laugh even more.

He managed to collect himself, moving his focus back to the task at hand. He pulled at the handcuffs, making Catherine jerk forward with a low grunt. She looked up, glaring at him for a moment, his grip was firm and tight, she couldn't move in the slightest. Catherine's mess of black hair began to fall in her face as she lingered in her bent position, partially over the Colonel's lap.

Hans pushed some of her hair aside, his grey eyes boring deep into her dark brown. Catherine recoiled from his touch, her dark eyes filled with a deep glare.

"Ich versprechen nicht verletzt du"-I promise not to hurt you- He assured her, though his attempt was only done half heartedly. Catherine's hard stare softened, but only slightly.

"Wo bist du bringen mich Herr Oberst?" -Where are you taking me Colonel?- her voice broke with uncertainty.

"Du wirst sehen." -You'll see- He said, his eyes flashing; his lips curled still into an amused, secretive smile.

* * *

_(Ok I was playing around and practicing with Hans's characterization, I think I got him down alright. Not sure though :( And if my German sounds awkward I'm sorry, I DID NOT use a translator and my German is not that good. So if you see any mistakes it would be nice if you could let me know! anyway here is chapter one Its just a short drabble story, I thought I'd have fun writing Hans for a bit!)_


	2. Part Two

"Wach auf mein Mädchen; öffen deine Augen!" Whispered Hans; slowly stroking Catherine's cheek with the back of his hand, coaxing her from her sleeping state.

"Wo bin Ich?" She asked sleepily; rubbing her sleep filled eyes.

"Guten morgen Mädchen," said Hans, moving back to his own seat.

"Tut mir leid, Ich nicht sagen.

Catherine was not satisfied with this answer; but really nothing he could have said would. She couldn't believe she was so careless while at Monsieur Lefévre's house. A year of eluding detection now broken; all because of one small step in the wrong direction. Hans beamed a small smile; opening his door he stepped out onto the rough gravel ground. Catherine remained in her little corner; un-moving despite the colonel's obvious invitation to follow him.

"Komm mein lieber, Wir müssen gehen jetzt."-Come my dear, we have to go now.- He said, his voice stretching dangerously close to sounding like a command.

Catherine said nothing; she did not move right away. Her eyes searched the bit of the outside that she could see; seeing a rather plain, weathered, tan building past Hans.

"Ich bin warten Mädchen," -I'm waiting- His voice was stern, he had no interest to play in this little game with Catherine.

"Ich sagte Sie. Tun nicht speil mit mir!"-I told you. do not play with me- He growled, though he did not yell. His voice stayed steady, not once moving above his normal tone. But still his words sat sharply in her ears; pulling her from her defiant state.

She moved across the seat; though this was slightly difficult while being handcuffed. This more than anything was what stopped her from following him. Hans expression softened; his smile smoothed back on his lips as Catherine edged closer to him.

"Danke mein schatz."-Thank you my dear- He took her hand helping Catherine the rest of the way out.

With a firm smack of her heels, she stepped on to the ground. Now with a better veiw of where she was Catherine didn't feel so abhorrent to following Hans. She was far from where she thought they had stopped; or at least it seemed that way. A small shiver traveled down her spine at the idea of being sent to one of those dreadful places.

"Herr Oberst!" Called a voice, followed by a click of their heels in salute. Hans moved his hand to Catherine's back; pushing her forward.

Another soldier stood with the other, doing a quick salute. Hans gave them a smug smile, waving them off with his free hand.

"Ich tun nicht müssen dein hilf Schütze."-I do not need your help Private- He said moving past the two enlisted men.

Hans walked with Catherine to the entrance of the unknown tan building, knocking at the base of the door. The two stood there for quite a while; Catherine began to wonder if they came to the right place. She looked over to Hans who was bouncing on his heels, as if he were singing a song in his head.

'Can he just stay the same for once!' she hissed under her breath.

Every moment he seemed to change; it was driving her mad. Catherine shifted her gaze from the colonel, staring directly at her feet. Her stockings were ripped to hell and covered in a layer of dirt; no doubt due to that damn German officer who pulled her from the bushes. After a few more minutes the door finally opened; but only slightly did it open.

"Standartenführer Hans Landa." Said Hans though the cracked door; the person on the other side grumbled something to him that Catherine could not hear. The door opened the rest of the way; Hans stepped forward; again he pushed Catherine by her back through the doorway.

She looked up and around her; there was little light, nothing much but a dull blue and white hallway. The man behind the door glared at her; though by the look on his face it seemed he was glaring at Hans as well.

"Was ist ihr Namen?"-what is her name?- Asked the man gruffly, glancing up from the clipboard in his hand.

"Catherine Richter." Said Catherine, rather loudly. The man scribbled down her name; he did not bother to ask her to spell it. With a tired sigh he tucked the clipboard between his arms, looking up at a clock overhead.

"Es wird nicht lange dauern diese Zeit."-It will not take long this time- Hans assured the man.

The man scoffed; it was obvious he had heard this line from Hans before. He walked over to one of the doors down the hallway unlocking it; with a lazy push he opened it, walking off.

Catherine walked with Hans into the room, and light the hallway it was poorly lit; though it was furnished with two chairs and one long table between them. The room held a pungent stench of stale cigarettes and another unnameable smell. Catherine wrinkled her noes tightly at the smell; she could hardly stand it.

"Bitte, setz dich."-Please, sit down.- Said Hans, gesturing to one of the seats.

Catherine reared over to one of the chairs; giving it one quick look over before sitting down. Hans followed her lead; taking the other seat at the opposite end of the table. There was dead silence as they sat down.

"So sagen mich,"-So tell me- he began, braking the silence; "Warum wurden du versteckt?"Why were you hiding?-

"Ich war Angst."-I was afraid- She replied, looking Hans directly in his eyes.

Hans grinned slightly; amused by her answer. He leaned forward; resting his elbows on the table.

"Was wurden dich Angst von?"-What were you afraid of?-

"Du und deine männer." -You and your men.- Catherine did not look directly at Hans this time. Her gaze shifted more towards his hands as the last few words left her lips.

"Es das recht?"-Is that right?- He said playfully, his gray eyes poking and prodding for hers. He could tell her new found bravery and confidence was waving thin.

"Ja, ich war auf meinem Weg zu spreche zu Herr Lefévre."-Yes, I was on my way to speak to Mr. Lefévre.- She said forcefully; trying to still sound confidant. "Und ich war nur überrumpelt." -And I was caught off guard.-

"Ja, aber warum verstecken Fräulein? Da war nicht mussen verstecken. -Yes, but why hide? There was no need to hide.- Now Hans was very curious how Catherine would answer this little question; he could tell that she was hiding something, and for the life of him he would get her to divulge her secrets.

Catherine was rendered silent by this question, she had no idea how she could answer without giving away too much. Oh even if she could get away from his grasp; no one would view her in the same light again. They would all know; and she couldn't manage that.

"Nichts zu sagen mein liebling?"-Nothing to say my darling?- He expected this to happen; but it did not matter.

"Ich beantwortete deine Frage." She said, though her words were mumbled.

Hans was not happy with her answer in the slightest. He stood up from his chair; looking down at Catherine. Walking around the table he pressed his hands firmly into her shoulders turning her around in the chair. With a hard unbreakable stare his gray eyes tore into hers; his smile was gone, he showed no hint of hesitation within his expression.

"Sie werden mir sagen Catherine."-You will tell me Catherine.- he said hardly, "Ich werde dafür sorgen, dass Sie tun."-I will see to it that you do.-


	3. Part Three

Part Three:

Catherine could not get Hans' words out of her head,

'You will tell me Catherine, I'll see to it you do.'

It was like a reoccurring dream that just refused to go away. Her mind whirled with possibilities, and images, she could hardly stand what her own imagination was showing her. The door to the room opened with an abrupt clang, pulling Catherine from her hellish daydream. A young man walked in, carrying a small tray with a glass of water and a bowl of soup.

"Heir, das ist von Herr Standartenführer Landa."

"Wo ist ihr?" -Where is he?- She asked as the young man set the tray down at the table.

"Ich nicht wissen. Aber ihr werde bald zurück sein."-I don't know, but He will be back soon." He replied, beginning to walk back out.

Catherine didn't bother to ask him anything more; he was too low in the ranks to have any idea on what Hans would be up too. Though maybe if she were lucky she might find someone who would. She stared down at the thin brown "soup", trying to distinguish if it were actually edible. Picking up the spoon she dipped it it, stirring the bowls contents; it at least smelled alright. Lifting the spoon to her mouth she took a bite, not too bad. After about a few more bites the door clicked once more, but this time it wasn't the young Private.

"Hallo schatz." Beamed Hans, locking the door behind him with a firm click and turn.

"Hallo Standartenführer Landa." She replied, her mouth full of soup.

Hans walked over to her, retaking his place within the seat opposite Catherine. He rested his head on his palm his elbow on the table top and his eyes focused intently on Catherine. He looked like a perched hawk, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at his pray.

He shifted back a bit, still watching her with the same intensity. Catherine swallowed hard, feeling extremely uneasy with how closely he was observing her now.

"Was willst du denn?"-What is it you want?- Her voice was strained but there was an unmistakable tone of annoyance to it that made Hans smile widely.

"Ich will Antworten mein Fraülein,"-I want answers-

Catherine averted her eyes once more, she made up her mind, she would not indulge in any more of the colonel's whims, silence would be her answers.

"Ich habe nicht für dich Standartenführer Landa."-I have none for you Colonel Landa-

Hans laughed lightly, moving his chin from his palm. He seemed more amused than annoyed much to Catherine's surprise.

"Du werde sagen mich."-You'll tell me- He leaned forward, a sly smirk pressing deep on his lips. "It's just a matter of time."

Catherine's eyes grew wide as his sudden conversion to English; even more so the switch meant he was on to her, but how could he?

"Was?"-What?- Catherine tried to pull the conversation back into German but Hans would not allow it.

"Don't play coy with me mein Fraülein." Said Hans persisting to converse in English. "I know you understand me."

Catherine could feel her resolve drain bit by bit, the walls were closing in to her little plan of defiance. Her eyes darted across the table, everywhere but at Hans, those gray eyes would be the death of her if she met them again.

"Why don't you look at me schatz?" Hans lulled each word with a painful slowness, enticing Catherine to look at him. He wanted to see her facade die within her eyes, he wanted to take full control of the moment, no doubts to be had.

"Look at me." He softly commanded, but Catherine still refused, steadfastly focusing her gaze away from Hans'.

He moved his hand toward her, grasping her chin with his thumb and index finger gingerly. Catherine shivered at his touch, but even still she refused to look at him. Averting her eyes from his was the last taste of control she would ever have again; because now there was no chance at escape. Hans lifted his hand, raising her chin; his hand shifted over cupping her check, he knew a way to meet her eyes. Chuckling lowly he pressed his lips firmly onto hers; firmly grasping her cheek with one hand.

Catherine's eyes popped open, staring deep into the gray abyss of the colonel's gaze. He grinned in the kiss, pleased that this little trick worked so well. Hans pulled back, that sly, suave grin plain on his face; he leaned back in his chair, his arm resting on the top of the chair. He was the picture of confidence, and control; calm as ever.

She could hardly process what just happened, her lips idly rubbed against each other, filling her mouth with a taste of Hans. He grinned wider, running his tongue over his lips, it seemed to stultify the action to Catherine.

"What, how dare you-" She stopped,her voice trailing off as she realized what she had just done. Catherine cupped her hand over her mouth, her eyes stinging with salty tears.

"See, like I said mein liebling, you _will _tell me."


	4. Part Four

Catherine felt helpless as he towered before her, how could she have been so careless as to speak English with him, It was a dead giveaway. She wanted to run, far and never look back, but as she looked up all she could see was the figure of Hans standing in her way.

Hans moved over to her side of the table, a small smile playing on his lips. He moved his hand over his lips, recalling the feel of Catherine's on his own. It surprised Hans that he resulted to such mischief to get her to open up, it was not normal for him to act on such impulse, but with Catherine it seemed impulse had a harder tug on him.

He leaned down placing a soft kiss on her cheek,

"I'll be back tomorrow, I'd think about my options if I were you mein liebe." He said softly, pulling away from her. He walked back over to the door, opening it, leaving with a subtle wave.

Hans was very pleased with himself; though he had no doubt in his mind that he could get Catherine to slip up, just once was all he needed, and she did not disappoint. He walked back down the dimly lit hall to the room Catherine was in; he still had much work to do. Pulling a ring of keys from inside his coat, unlocking the door.

"Guten Morgen mein liebling," Hans locked the door behind him, replacing the key within his pocket.

"When can I leave." Asked Catherine, lifting her head from the table trying to hide the pleading sound in her voice.

"When I receive the information from you I need." He said plainly, retaking his seat at the table for another time.

"What can I tell you, I'm just a city girl I have no part in whatever popped up under your radar." Said Catherine bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to piece together her confidence, her resolve, but with every attempt she felt even more worn down.

"Ah I know better than that liebe." Said Hans standing up. Catherine followed his every move after what he did the day before she would take no chances.

"How did you know I spoke English?" She asked, fining that the more she spoke with him, the more that question surfaced in her mind. She cursed herself after asking the question, wishing that she didn't let curiosity and impulse get the best of her so easily.

"I didn't." Replied Hans with a wide grin.

Catherine felt that same feeling fall over her, only this time she realized it was her own tongue that caused this to continue. She looked up at Hans, who was now towering over her. He looked down at Catherine his gray eyes gracing over her. Hans dipped his hands in his coat, retrieving a pair of handcuffs.

"What is that for?" Asked Catherine, afraid to hear his answer.

"This place is not suited to my needs nor yours." He replied as he latched her hands together once more.

"And what does that mean?" She said a bit more hastily than she intended.

Hans smiled, letting out a brief humming laugh. He tapped her on the shoulder, silently commanding her to stand up. Reluctantly Catherine did, and Hans placed his hand on her back, pushing her forward.

The two walked through the door, and into the hallway; Hans nodded over to the overseer who had a confused look stretched over his face. He opened the second door letting the dim afternoon light shine in. Catherine shielded her eyes, the sudden change in light shot a painful spark through her eyes.

"Hallo Standartenfuhrer." Beamed Hermann standing at the car awaiting the two.

Hans opened the door for Catherine, ushering her in. He closed the door, walking over to Hermann.

"Las uns gehen."-Let's go-Said Hans, opening the door again.

"Ja herr Oberst." Hermann walked over to the drivers side taking his place within the town car.

Catherine was all too confused as to what Hans was doing, there was no real point in moving so why were they?

"Mein Fraulein, put this over your eyes." Instructed Hans, handing her a blindfold. Catherine looked over the black fabric briefly and back at Hans.

"Why?" Was her only question, she didn't like the idea of not knowing what was around her while she was around Hans, he was far to unpredictable to feel otherwise.

"Don't you trust me schatz?" He asked teasingly.

"No." She replied with a stony gaze.

"Ah well…" His voice trailed off as if another thought occupied his mind.

Catherine let out a sigh, the car had yet to move and it seemed that Hermann was instructed to wait until the blindfold covered her eyes before he began to drive to their new destination. Hans waited patently, folding his hands in his lap as his gray eyes watched Catherine intently.

She glanced back up at him, feeling her resolve leave her again, and once more she felt helpless to him. Catherine handed him the blindfold, turning around so he could tie it over her eyes. Hans chuckled taking the fabric from her hand. He pulled the blindfold over her eyes, softly stroking her cheek as he did.

Hans looked over at Hermann giving him a nod, signaling him to start driving.

Catherine felt the town car shake with a start as it began to move, turning and going every which-way; the fact that she couldn't actually see where it was going made her head spin. The car raddled and shook, throwing Catherine off balance, her hand jutting out landing on Hans' leg as they went over a bump. Her hand recoiled as soon as she realized what it had landed on; Hans let out a laugh at her sudden surprise. Catherine moved more over to the other side of the seat, making sure that she was a good deal away from Hans.

Hans smiled, grazing his hand over his lips in an idle motion. The more he watched her, the more interesting she became to him; it was then he knew that this little project could be quite beneficial, not just in finding the Basterds but also beneficial for himself.

"Wir bist heir Standartenfuhrer," said Hermann.

Hans looked up, pulled from his thoughts; he moved over to Catherine, tapping her on her thigh.

"We're here mein schatz." Said Hans, pulling her blindfold away.

Catherine opened and closed her eyes as light hit them once again, trying to adjust. Hans stepped out of the car, holding his hand out for Catherine to take.

As her eyes began to readjust she realized that instead of taking her to simply another facility, it seemed Hans had in fact taken her to his own private town house.

She looked over to him, utterly confused.

"Why did you bring me here?" Asked Catherine, looking back and forth from the townhouse and Hans.

Hans did not answer, for once he said nothing, he simply gestured ahead towards the door as he began to talk briefly with Hermann. Hermann gave Hans a small salute, clicking his heels together. Catherine watched as Hans walked back towards her, he pulled a key from his pocket unlocking the door.

"After you mein schatz." He said gesturing forward once more.

Catherine took a few steps forward, the house was tightly packed, papers and books occupied almost every corner. The walls were a dark burgundy with white patterns, the furniture a dark burnt almond color.

Hans pulled off his heavy leather coat setting it aside. He walked over to Catherine, taking her hands in his unlocking the handcuffs around her wrists.

Catherine rubbed the raw skin, the damn iron had begun to cut into her skin. She glanced up at Hans who was still watching her with the same intensity as before. He took in a breath, as if he were thinking about his choice of words carefully. Hans jutted a hand in the direction of a small hallway.

"Down that hall is a bathroom and next to it is a spare room, that is where you will be staying for now." He said finally.

"Thanks," mumbled Catherine, not quite paying attention to what he was saying. Her eyes searched around trying to find a route of escape. Hans seemed to take noticed of this, he bent down slightly making Catherine meet his eyes.

"Don't try to escape, there is nothing here that will help you; I've made sure of that mein schatz."

Catherine's face contorted into a bitter frown, she hated how easily he could pick out her thoughts, it was starting to really unsettle her. Straightening up her posture she looked Hans clear in the eyes saying with as much confidence,

"What made you think that Herr Oberst?"

Hans grinned, letting out a small brief laugh. He was quite surprised at her question, but also quite amused. Hans gestured over to the hallway again, silently asking her to follow him once more. Catherine took one cautious step forward, not letting Hans out of her sight; Hans smiled, placing his hand at the base of her back again, leading her down the dark hallway.

He walked to the last door down the hall opening it, a warm air rushed out of the room, taking away for a moment the chill of the cold hallway.

"Clean yourself up, and sleep; we will discus things more tomorrow morning." Said Hans ushering Catherine into the warm room.

Catherine took a few steps in feeling her cheeks redden as more warm air brushed over her. A small hit of a smile made its way over her lips, a moment of happiness finally met her thoughts.

Hans took hold of her wrist, Catherine winced, her wrist was still very tender from the handcuffs. With his other hand, Hans took out his Lugar pistol putting it plainly in Catherine's view.

"Now I see no reason for me to use such force on you mein liebling, but if you do in fact try anything with me I shall not hesitate to use this." He spoke softly, almost sweetly. Catherine felt a line of sweat fall down her face, her eyes wide as she stared at the lengthy barrel of the Lugar.

"Do we understand each other?" He asked.

"Ja herr oberst." She replied her voice considerably smaller than before. Hans face slipped back to a smile again, he let go of her wrist slipping his hand into hers, raising it to his lips. He softly kissed the back of her hand, his lips caressing the soft flesh.

"Till tomorrow mein schatz, Gute Nacht." He said, more of a whisper this time.

"Gute Nacht…" Catherine could hardly speak, her voice was lost in her throat. Hans released his grip on her hand closing the door.


	5. Part Five

Part Five:

Lt. Aldo Raine tapped Donny on the shoulder drawing his attention to a young girl across the way standing in the middle of a French market.

"She's the one, the informant?" Asked Donny cocking an eyebrow at Aldo.

"Yeah surprised me too," he replied pulling a burnt up cigarette from his mouth tossing it into the dirt.

"Now she has some information we need, and we need to get it quick." Said Aldo, "Now Wicky is going to be the first contact, then we meet up with a Frenchy named Levefere."

"How do we know we can trust her?" Asked Donny, unsure that they were making the right move.

"Well from what I know, which isn't much is that her father was over here with her before the occupation, a brit spy and he got killed in a scuffle with a kraut." Aldo lit another cigarette, "It seems that after her father's death she picked up in his place or some shit like that."

"Look she's moving, Wicky should intercept her from here, we should move." Aldo picked up his gun giving Donny a firm smack on the shoulder.

Donny pushed his hands into the dirt, following behind Aldo, looking over his shoulder.

* * *

Catherine looked around her, she waited by a fruit vender for a man named Wicki to show up. It was unsettling meeting one of the Basterds in such a public area, who knows who could be waiting for her. Her hand smoothed over a hidden pocket in her dress, where a map was hidden. She was to give this map to one of the Basterds, though it was meaningless to her, she knew that if the wrong person found her with it she'd be dead.

"Hallo du bist Catherine Ja?"-You are Catherine yes?- Asked a voice, followed by a tap on the shoulder.

Catherine almost jumped out of her skin at the sudden surprise. She turned around to find a man standing stiffly in a worn Nazi uniform. It was more obvious now that she looked at him that he was not an actual soldier, rather one of the Basterds.

"Ja, du bist Wicki?" She asked feeling herself tighten up.

"Ja, lass uns gehen." -Yes, Let's go.- He replied, partially walking in another direction.

Catherine began to follow behind, trying to seem casual. Wicki looked over to his right, trying to find Aldo and Donny. He continued to walk with Catherine at his side for a few more moments, growing more and more anxious as he still did not spot either of the two men. He let out a sigh of relief as he spotted Donny in the corner of his eye.

"Great you got the girl, now lets get the fuck out of here." Said Donny, giving Catherine a cautious look.

"I won't object to that." Said Aldo with a grin.

* * *

Catherine pulled herself from her thoughts, replacing herself in the present moment. She grabbed a washcloth from the rack, wetting it with the blistering hot water. Dabbing lightly she tended to her cuts with the steaming washcloth, making her clench her teeth and groan as pain surged through her limbs. She tossed the washcloth aside, into the now grey bath water. Her skin still felt so unclean, but she was already numb from the heat of the water.

She looked up into the mirror, her cobalt eyes staring right back at her through the hazy glass. Catherine tore her eyes away from her reflection moving back to the rack of towels, wrapping one around her. Bunching up her old clothes she took a step outside the door, letting out all the steam from the bathroom. She looked down the hall and seeing no one she proceeded to walking to the other room. Her hand grasped the cold doorknob opening the door with a firm push. The room was dark, pitch black, even with the light from the hall she could hardly see a thing. Moving her hand blindly she felt for a light switch, at first finding nothing to her disappointment.

Finally she found a switch, promptly flipping it. The light came on and much to her relief there was a fresh pair of clothes set neatly on the cream queen sized bed near the wall. She smiled again, setting her dirty clothes aside on a small drawing table. On the new pile of clothes was a small note written in a rough curvy handwriting.

_'Catherine, I took the liberty of having Hermann get you a new dress. -Hans.'_

She set the note aside taking the dress into her hands, raising it to the light. It was was a pleasant blue and lined white, better quality than her previous one even. Catherine slipped on the new dress, feeling almost new now that she was wearing clean clothes. The bed looked soft and she could feel the call of sleep purring her name. Her limbs ached, her head was pounding, all she wanted was to rest. Catherine walked over to the door closing it and walked over to the switch, turning off the light. Pitch blackness covered her eyes again but it was a blessing now, Catherine slumped over to the bed falling onto the cold covers. Crawling underneath she let out a pleasant groan as her hands ran over the fresh sheets. She closed her eyes, letting her hair fall over her shoulders, Catherine slowly drifted to sleep.

That following morning Hans came walking to 'her' door, knocking lightly. He was already dressed neatly in his uniform, not a stitch nor hair out of place. He always managed to be the most clean, most clean cut of the officers.

"Guten Morgen schatz," he chimed, opening the door of the room.

"Wha-" mumbled Catherine, her hand bunching into a fist as she grasped her pillow. It seemed for a moment she had forgotten exactly where she was and exactly who she was with. Hans grinned taking another few steps into the room. He sat at the corner of the bed, leaning over Catherine's sleeping form.

"Open your eyes, Its time to wake up." He cooed, his lips near her ear. Hans brushed her mess of black hair from her face, revealing her flushed puffy cheeks and round pursed lips. He grazed his hand over her cheek, causing her sleepy eyes to flutter. Still in a sleepy daze Catherine mumbled in her sleep, still oblivious to the colonel's presence.

Catherine opened her eyes, blinking a few times as light slipped into them. With the back of her hand she roughly rubbed the sleep from her puffy, tired morning eyes, looking around the room. It was then her gaze was met with that of Hans, his silhouetted figure blotting out most of the light in the room.

"Guten Morgen mein liebe, sleep well?" He asked, his voice bordering on an almost playful tone.

"Yes, actually." She spoke with a clouded voice still partially asleep. Catherine looked up at Hans, surprised he wasn't carrying her out of the bed by now. It still had not completely registered where in fact she was, her mind still whirled with dreamy thoughts, her lips still curved into a pleasant, contented smile. Hans looked at her with a raised brow, utterly surprised she was acting so calm and pleasant now.

Catherine's vision began to clear, she rubbed her eyes of the last hint of sleep letting out a yawn. It was then she finally realized where she was, her cobalt eyes groaning wide as all hints of sleep vanished instantly. Catherine squirmed to an upright position, sitting up in her bed.

"Shall we begin mein Fraülein?" He asked, standing up from his spot on the bed.

Catherine looked up at him, seeing that smug smile on his lips, it almost infuriated her but she didn't let it show. Rather Catherine stood up, placing her feet firmly on the cold hard wood floor her arms now crossed tightly.

"After you herr Oberst." She said, causing Hans to chuckle.

He grinned walking forward, looking over his shoulder. Catherine followed closely behind as he lead her to another part of the house. She looked up at Hans, her cobalt eyes watching him closely. He continued to glance over his shoulder, looking as if he thought any moment she would stop following him.

"Sit down Mein Schatz," he said gesturing to a chair in another room.

Catherine looked around, it was a small room filled to the brim with folders, files, and stray papers. Hans ran a hand over the table brushing a lose file in his arm. He licked the tip of his finger, leafing through the file, his eyes focused briefly on Catherine.

"Is that a file on me?" Asked Catherine, eyeing the folder with interest.

He smiled,

"As a matter of fact it is." He closed the file, keeping his index finger inside to hold a place.

Catherine sat in dead silence, saying nothing, she would let Hans ask what he wanted, there was no point in prolonging it. He looked back at Catherine, flashing her his dull gray eyes. Hand ran a hand over his lips, smoothing down his chin scratching the hint of stubble on his chin.

"You can make things very easy for yourself Catherine, and I know you know what I require, what I'm looking for." Said Hans.

"I have nothing to tell you herr Oberst, " said Catherine crossing her arms. Hans grinned, as if he had been waiting for her to say that. He reopened the file taking out a series of photographs spreading them across the table for her to see.

He tapped one with his index finger staring right at Catherine. She looked down finding a clear image of herself and a "German soldier". Catherine looks up at Hans playing off her fear,

"What is this?" She asked raising her arms in a show of innocence.

"Oh don't play this with me now mein Schatz," Hans purred, his tone just hardly that of reasonable etiquette.

Catherine glanced back at the photograph, and at Hans finding that there was absolutely no way to squirm from this trap.

"What baring does this photograph have on anything," she asked.

Hans tapped the center off the photograph firmly. His eyes grew dark, the grin on his face grew wider.

"This Mein Fraülein, I'm sure you are aware is Sargent Wilhelm Wicki, known member of the group known as "The Basterds"

"that name is unfamiliar to me." Catherine played off the fear in her voice, almost choking on her words as with each one she felt it harder to breathe.

"You know as well as I do this man is no _German _soldier." Said Hans, eyeing Catherine closely.

She looked up, her cobalt eyes barring into Hans', Catherine could feel the walls closing in again, now it was only a matter of time when they were going to come toppling over her.

"I have no association with "The Basterds" _Hans,_" She said bordering on a sneer.

Hans felt impulse pull at him once more as Catherine referred to him by name, but he simply smiled staring her down with careful eyes. He laughed lightly, pulling a cigarette from his tunic pocket. Placing the cigarette between his lips he lit it with a bronze lighter, blowing out the open flame with his lips still curled around the cigarette.

Catherine pulled part of her hair into one of her hands, twisting a stray lock of hair between two of her fingers. Her eyes gravitated to the ground, she couldn't look Hans in the eyes any longer. What could she say that would satisfy Hans whilst not betraying "The Basterds"? Catherine mulled over her words in her mind but none seemed to suffice, one would tend to either extreme, Hans or "The Basterds" and that would not due. If she wanted to get out of this question she would have to be clever.

"Consider for a moment the citation you are in mein fraulein." Said Hans taking his cigarette from his lips, blowing a line of smoke into the air.

"I'd wager that they in fact do not trust you, nor do they care what happens to you." Continued Hans, trying to provoke an answer. He leaned forward in his chair, placing an elbow firmly on the table his eyes focused intently on Catherine.

"They are men by their name, 'bastards' and their mission comes from a single bloody desire for carnage and the call of pure bloodlust."

"They are no friends of yours."

Catherine finally looked up at Hans, she knew deep inside Hans was speaking true. She knew from the first moment that she met "The Basterds" that their trust in her was paper thin. And now with her in the hands of the SS, most likely they would have easily forgotten about her.

"So what do you suggest I do?" She asked halfheartedly. Hans' smile found its way back on his lips, he took another drag on his cigarette, feeling he had finally gotten somewhere with all this.

"Stop lying and tell me what you know, simple as that."


	6. Part Six

Part Six:

Catherine felt her blood run cold, her mouth go dry and her mind race at a mile a minute. Her eyes scanned over the photographs on the table, the very sight of them infuriated her. She took in a breath, breathing in some of the smoke from Hans' cigarette. Hans stood up from his chair, taking the file back in his hand. He pushed his cigarette into the table snuffing it out before moving behind Catherine. Hans placed a finger inside the folder and opened it in front of her, straddling her shoulders with his arms.

"I have been tracking your every move for months, there is nothing you can hide, no secret that I don't already know." Hans began to leaf through the thick file, his voice becoming harder with each word spoken.

Catherine felt her heart race inside her chest, pounding relentlessly. Her cheeks grew warmer as the colonel pressed harder onto her back, his cheek pressing into hers as he hunched her over her own file. Inside was her every moment, every contact she had with The Basterds, Lefevere, everyone she had ever conspired with.

Hans moved from her roughly, jerking her upwards from her chair. His gray eyes burned with an intensity she had never seen him have. The visage of the calm collected colonel was gone and in its place a man with a look of such pure intensity it was no question he would do what ever necessary to get the answers he wanted.

He now held Catherine against the opposite wall by her arms, gripping tightly. His blood raged, pushing hard in his throat, his gray eyes ripping into Catherine's cobalt ones, with a malicious smile stretched on his lips. For once Catherine felt real fear fall over her, she had danced between the line of fear and anxiety when she was with Hans but now at this moment all she felt was pure fear.

Hans loosened his grip, the fire in his eyes dying almost as instantly as it came. His grin shifted into a calm, benevolent smile, without a hint of the rage his face bore before. He slicked back the stray strands of caramel hair that had fallen out of place taking in a steady breath.

"Caught you flinching." He said laughing lightly.

Catherine was utterly confused, what just happened?

"W-What are you playing at Colonel?' She asked defensively pressing her hands into his shoulders in order to push him away from her.

Hans stayed right where he was, his booted heels planted firmly on the hardwood floor.

"That was cruel I know, but I was only teasing mein schatz." He said under a chuckle, confusing Catherine even more.

Catherine wanted to smack that smug smile off his face so hard, she wanted to grab that Luger pistol of his and give him a taste of the fear he had just given her. She gritted her teeth, her fists pounding into his gray tunic, she wanted to be nowhere around Hans now. Her hand came down upon the Iron Cross on his chest, burying its point deep in the side of her hand. Catherine yelped, recoiling her hand; Hans only chuckled looking at her with a raised brow.

"Are you finished?' He asked, glancing down at the blood crawling down her hand and on to her new dress.

She nodded, pulling her wounded hand to her chest. Catherine clutched her hand tightly, biting her lip to ease the pain in her bloody hand. Hans relaxed his shoulders, reaching for Catherine's hand. She moved away from him but Hans sidestepped her moment blocking her escape. He took hold of her elbow ith one hand and with the other he grasped her wrist.

"Stop moving mein liebling, and come with me." He softly commanded.

"Ok," Catherine muttered, feeling no longer up to fighting with him anymore.

Hans smiled wider, pleased that she was finally deciding to cooperate with him. Lightly pulling on her wrist, Hans guided her to the bathroom, pushing the door in he positioned her near the water basin.

"I would suggest that you not do that again, there are quite a few others on here you can cut yourself on." He said teasingly placing his hand over a patch of medals on his chest.

Catherine went to say something but her mouth snapped back shut as the warm water touched her cut. She winced, pulling her hand back.

"Tsk, Tsk, mein Fraülein, stop being stubborn." He tugged firmly on her wrist pulling it back under the water.

He grazed his fingers over the cut, glancing briefly at his Iron Cross noticing the ample amount of blood on its corner. Catherine winced as he gazed the side of her hand with his fingers, and the warm water still felt like a bitter bite against her skin. Hans looked up at Catherine, grinning lightly; he turned off the water setting her hand on the edge of the basin. Reaching over to a small cabinet he pulled out a tiny toll of nit bandages, unrolling them around his index and middle finger. He cut off the amount he needed with his teeth, placing the rest aside. Once more he took hold of her hand, tightly wrapping it in the bandage twice over.

"Thank you." Catherine opened and closed her hand a bit, familiarizing her self with the feel of the bandage on her hand.

"You're welcome." He spoke rather smugly, his smile growing wider.

Catherine looked at Hans closely, unsure what to do now, he wasn't asking anymore questions, not that she wanted him too. She let out a sigh followed by a loud growl from her stomach. Catherine clutched her aching stomach looking rather embarrassingly at Hans.

"Would you like something to eat?" He asked, though the answer was obvious.

Catherine nodded, and with that Hans brought her to the front of the house to the makeshift dinning room. She sat down at the tiny table, watching as Hans walked into the kitchen. Catherine craned her neck trying to see what he was doing, there was part of a wall in the way so all she could see was his left shoulder and hear the clang of a pot on the stove. She began to really wonder about Hans, ever since she first met him he would flip back and forth from a strict, almost hard interrogator to a benevolent host, it was all too unnerving.

Hans walked back over after a few minutes of being out of sight, in his hand was a cup of tea and a bowl of soup. He seemed rather distracted as he set the food down, as if there was something he had forgotten and he was trying to remember what it was. Looking back over to Catherine, he brushed his hands over his lips, a poor habit he had picked up. He watched her until she finished, pushing the cup and bowl over to him. Hans said nothing, there wasn't even a smile on his lips anymore. He got up, picking up the bowl and cup, placing them in the sink.

Catherine stood up, about to walk to 'her' room when Hans called out for her, making her stop dead in her tracks in the middle of the hallway.

"One more moment mein Liebe." He said calling out into the hall. Catherine walked back into the kitchen finding Hans still hunched over the sink.

"What?" She asked not bothering with any formality, this seemed to get some of Hans' attention. He looked over his shoulder, walking up towards her.

He raised his hand to her face, lifting her chin with his finger, peering deep into her eyes.

"We did not finish our discussion mein Fraülein." He said, his voice just above a whisper.

"I was under the impression it was." Catherine grew defensive, she did not want to slip into this again.

"Oh come now mein schatz, what kind of detective do you think I am if I were to give up so easily?" He asked in a teasing voice, etching even closer to Catherine with one step.

"Well?" He asked teasingly, his voice just above that of a whisper. His hand caressed her cheek, stroking the line of her jaw with a single finger.

"I-I" Catherine could hardly speak, her words were lost in her throat. She stood transfixed, enthralled in Hans' touch, his voice was like a dark song, it intrigued her, entranced her. She could hardly understand what was coming over her.

He leaned forward, wrapping his arm around her waist, his hand smoothing into the small of her back. His fingers moved as if they were stroking the keys of a piano, pressing and caressing the sensitive skin under the thin cloth of Catherine's dress. His lips brushed against hers, in one swift teasing motion making Catherine move more towards him.

Every movement he made was a temptation, a call for Catherine to move. He grinned pleasingly when she moved at his touch. Hans closed the remaining space between them and in one swift motion he moved his lips on to hers. Catherine's eyes fluttered open as she felt the colonel's mouth take over hers. His kiss was strong, dominating but not overbearing. Catherine felt all control slip right though her fingers and right into the open hands of Hans. He moved her over to the table, his hands placed firmly of either side of her face. Hans bit at her bottom lip, hard enough to make Catherine gasp. He grinned, slipping his tongue in her mouth filling her with a full taste of him.

Catherine moaned slightly, as he explored her mouth with his tongue, marking every part for his own. He parted from her, leaving Catherine gasping for air whilst he still hovered over her. His various medals pressed hard into her chest, some pitching harshly. Catherine finally caught her breath her cobalt eyes clouded as blood pounded in her head. Hans grinned, moving down to her neck nuzzling his nose in the soft flesh there. He nibbled at her collarbone, causing her to gasp and moan, her hands grasping hard on his grey tunic. Hans moved back up her neck, trailing soft kisses along her jawline.

"That's enough for tonight mein liebe," He purred, pushing himself from the table.

He took in a deep breath, stroking back his caramel hair and with one sharp tug he pulled his tunic back to place, it looked as if nothing happened to him. Catherine's chest heaved up and down, her heart pounding rapidly, ready to burst. She was panting, her breath husky and uneven as her appearance. Hans walked up to her placing a soft chaste kiss on her lips.

"Gute Nacht mein schatz," He purred. Hans straightened his posture, walking away from Catherine and back down the hall, leaving her disheveled and panting on top of the table wondering what the hell had just happened.


	7. Part Seven

Part Seven:

Donny eyed Catherine carefully, always glancing over his shoulder at her. The sound of rocks and crumpled earth crunched under their feet, lightly adding to the natural ambiance of the thick woods. The clouds were dangerously dark, threatening the moment with the promise of rain. Catherine felt nervous with the look he was giving her, it was obvious he wasn't too fond of the whole situation and he especially was not fond of her.

"Don't mind him," assured Wicki tapping her lightly on her shoulder, giving her a small hint of a smile, he seemed more accepting of all this, a hell of allot more easy to be around.

Catherine tried to smile, but found that she was to anxious to do so. She couldn't help but feel tight and nervous with the look Donny was shooting at her.

"Well we're a good deal away from that market now, you have that map?" Asked Aldo giving Catherine a weary eye himself. He pulled his cigarette from his mouth letting it smolder for a bit, the thick cloud of smoke gravitating down to his chest.

"Yes, yes of course," Catherine pulled the map from her pocket, ruffling her dress as she did, "Now I can not tell you for certain where the main outfit is at, I just know its around an orchard."

She handed the map to Aldo cautiously, who took it with a jerk.

"I can tell you that there is a much smaller group of Germans out about here." She flipped the map over in his hand pointing to the spot, "they should be able to tell you the exact location." Aldo smiled widely, smacking Catherine hard on the back.

"You ain't too bad for a Brit," he said tossing his cigarette. Catherine managed a smile glad to find the information she had was of some help.

"Ok let's get the fuck out of here," said Donny, his grip growing tight on his machine gun.

"Yeah that sounds good, Wicki let's get going." Aldo picked up his own gun giving Catherine a brief salute.

"We'll be in contact," he said as he, Donny, and Wicki began to walk off into a more secluded part of the woods.

Once they were gone, she let out a sigh, happy to find things went rather smoothly. She grabbed the corners of her dress walking back to the French Market, into a back entrance of a sound of chatting people and the clang of cups and forks met her ears instantly as she opened the door; the distinct aroma of coffee was a pleasant, well welcome sensation. A man from the bar noticed her, a rather young stubble covered man named Pierre. He smiled at the sight of her, glancing over his shoulder.

"Did it go well?" He mouthed, tossing a bar towel over his shoulder.  
Catherine gave a firm nod, smiling happily.

"Couldn't have gone better," she mouthed back.

Pierre smiled, he was what some would call a roommate to Catherine, though she never stayed long due to her having to constantly hide. Although, even still, she was always welcome over at Pierre's, after a while a developed a small crush for her but he would never tell her.

Catherine let out a sigh walking over to his side,

"Can I have a coffee please?" She asked, nudging him with her elbow.

"S'il vous plaît," he pressed, snapping her with the towel.

Catherine never learned to speak French fluently, she had only lived in France for less than a year. Her father had become a spy shortly after the German occupation due to his strategic value from living in France. She gave a small groan as Pierre refused to give her a coffee until she said please in French.

"Come on, its easy, S'il. vous. plaît." He spoke as if he were teaching a child, teasing Catherine rather well.

"S'il vous plaît!" She said finally, "Now can I have that coffee?"

Pierre nodded, grinning mischievously as he handed her a cup. Catherine waited patiently as he poured the black coffee, whistling as he did.

"Why are you always so cheery?" She asked, raising the black coffee to her lips taking a sip.

"Because I am with you of course mi cheri, and you make me happy," he said in a 'matter of fact' tone of voice, still smiling wildly.

Catherine bit her bottom lip, smiling embarrassingly as red blush filled her cheeks.

* * *

Light hit her eyes once more, the happy memory of Pierre gone and replaced with the present moment. Curling tightly in her bed, Catherine tried to fall back asleep, trying to go back to that happier time. Hans stood at her door, gazing into the room, his arms folded over his chest. He moved from his leaning position, walking a few paces to the foot of the bed.

"Mein Liebe," he called, pressing his palms into the bed.

Catherine looked up over her layer of blankets to find Hans dressed in his dress uniform, a golden iron cross with oak leaves around his neck along with various other medals, it seemed that he was on his way to going somewhere important.

"Get up and get yourself ready, I have a new dress awaiting you in the bathroom, and try to hurry, I'm not a man that is fond of being late." He moved from the bed back to the door, flashing his gray eyes at Catherine.

"Where are you taking me?" Catherine managed to ask, sitting up from the bed.

"Oh you'll see." That was all he said and with that he closed the door, walking back down the hallway.

Catherine let out a sigh, tossing her covers aside, she did not want to test Hans, as the lingering image of his Luger stood like a poison in her mind. She walked down the hall to the bathroom and just as Hans said there was a dress laid neatly over the water basin awaiting her. Catherine closed the door behind her, slipping her older dress from her shoulders setting it aside. It truly perplexed her as to what Hans was doing, though it wasn't like she had any other thing he did quite figured out either. She sighed, pulling on her stockings and undergarments first before pulling the thick black and cream ball like gown over her head. Catherine frowned at her appearance, deciding to pull her hair back. Now at least she fit the appearance better, though she still frowned bitterly. What was she doing putting on a ball gown, what did this have anything to do with her correspondence with The Basterds.

There was a light knock at the door, followed by the sound of Hans' voice. Catherine practically jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound. She ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm almost ready," she called out through the closed door. She could hear Hans shifting slightly, his boot heels lightly knocking at the ground in an idle pace. It didn't seem that he was anxious or even trying to rush her at all, just him shifting around aimlessly. Catherine opened the door, Hans was now completely still. He looked up from his feet, smiling benevolently, practically radiating eloquent charm and sophistication.

"Shall we go," asked Catherine, running a hand over the front of her dress.

"Of course," He motioned ahead of himself, letting Catherine walk before him. Catherine picked up the sides of her dress walking on before Hans, pass his ever watchful gray eyes.

Catherine reached the front of the house, Hans smiled opening the door before her.

'It was open the entire time!' she cried in her head, her eyes wide at the sudden realization. Hans seemed to realize why her face brightened up so much that he chuckled lightly.

"You seem to take allot for granted." He couldn't help but grin even wider as Catherine was rendered speechless.

Hans took her arm in his, patting her lightly as his grin still lingered on his face. The two walked outside to the awaiting town car where Hermann stood waiting patiently for them.

Hans and Catherine climbed in and with a single slam of the door they were off. Catherine, finally getting a hold of herself turned to Hans, moving her arm from his.

"I've had enough of this game, where are we going?" She asked, feeling a tinge of annoyance forming.

"It is a public function I'm not so pleased to inform you," he said plainly, "One I would much rather miss."

"And I am with you-" Catherine couldn't finish her question before he interrupted her.

"Because One, I can not leave you alone and Two, it would be inappropriate for me to attend this alone." He sounded slightly irritated, it was obvious what ever it was they were going to he was not keen to going.

"It is all about appearances really, you have to at least act like you care about these things other wise people get the wrong impression of you."

"I would have never pegged you as that kind of person herr oberst," said Catherine plainly

"That goes to show how little you actually know of me mein liebe." he said his grey eyes looking down, gesturing a single finger towards her.

He smiled speaking in an almost condescending way as he looked at her. Catherine opened her mouth to say something but decided not to as she had no idea what to say to Hans any more.

"Now when we arrive, I expect you to behave yourself," Catherine felt his Lugar pistol poke her side, sending a deep shiver down her spine.

"Is that clear?" He asked, speaking now in a low whispering tone.

"Ja her oberst."

"Sehr gut komm lass uns gehen mein liebling," (Very good, now let us go my darling) He said putting his pistol away, leaving a small warm kiss on her neck.

The car stopped and with that Hans opened the door, showing a crowed of finely dressed people of all shapes, colors, and sizes walking to one single building. Hans looked back over to Catherine, offering his arm. Catherine interlocked her arm with Hans, walking out of the car with him. As she continued to look around she could see that the lines of people were that of various people of the German military of varying rank and status along with a large portion of the French bourgeoisie and important members of the Nazi party.

Catherine felt Hans tighten slightly in her arm, it may have not been apparent on the outside but it was obvious from how Hans spoke he would have much rathered not go this bit of nonsense at all. He looked over at Catherine a clear image of charm and calmness, not hint of anxiety lined his face, she could hardly understand how he could do it.

They walked inside, greeted with the bitterly harsh bright light of the grand chandeliers and bright colors. The loud audacious sound of chatty, noisy people rambling on in French, and German alike. Catherine wanted to be anywhere but where she was as the sounds and smells continued to over take her senses. The pair walked on, occasionally stopped by various soldiers and women, some failed to even notice Catherine on Hans' arm as they spoke to him, others spoke very smugly to her almost nastily. As the two finally broke from a conversation with one woman Hans pulled her aside, whispering softly into her ear.

"It's almost time to go, we can leave as soon as I speak to the host." He said sounding almost reassuring.

Hans leaned back over shining fake smiles at the people who passed by. He looked over a Catherine briefly before his attention was taken away.

"Ach Landa! Es ist gut sie zu sehen!"(Ah Landa, it is good to see you!) Cried a voice walking over to shake Hans' hand, "Und wer ist das schön Fraülein Sie habe bei du?" (And who is this lovely young lady you have with you?)

"Ein alter freund," (an old friend) he replied shaking the man's hand firmly.

The man smiled widely, obviously delighted that Hans was there at his even, though it seemed rather pointless and Catherine couldn't gather anything from their conversation that would constitute Hans being there and having to do with her being there as well.

"Sie sind ein Glückspilz Fräulein einen zu solchen eine Mann wie Hans holen." (You are one luck young woman to get a man such as Hans) Said the man haughtily.

Catherine simply smiled, feeling it harder and harder to keep this up as the man continued. Hans gently tapped her side assuring her that they were about to leave. Hans gave a slight bow to the man, telling him in a matter of words it was time for him to leave, slipping in a suggestive remark as his eyes flashed towards Catherine. The man let out another haughty laugh, smacking Hans on his shoulder. He smiled waving Hans off still laughing slightly. The two could not have left quicker, as both were practically running for the door. Hans never was much for big social events, especially when they had little to no meaning what so ever. The man he had just spoken to was just another wealthy and highly esteemed and fortuitous member of the German military and of the Nazi party, though the man was a complete fool.

* * *

Donny looked across the way, at a brightly lit building, Aldo by his side. They were looking for a particular officer, one who held crucial information they needed. They knew someone had intercepted their informant, and they just needed to find out who and just exactly what they could do to prevent her from divulging information about them.

"I fucking told you not to trust her, that or she would get her ass caught by the SS and look what fucking happened!" Spat Donny, his eyes darting around for the man they were looking for.

"Will you keep your God damn mouth shut, and keep looking for that kraut!" Spat Aldo back at Donny. Wicki, Omar, Hugo and the other Basterds were back at their camp waiting up for Aldo and Donny. They had caught wind of the party and at the same time they had heard the news of Catherine's capture.

Donny grumbled lowly and went back to looking, his eyes grew wide with rage from what he saw next. There across the way he saw Catherine interlocking arms with Hans, and he didn't have to look twice to smack Aldo on his shoulder.

"Look! She's a fucking traitor!" Growled Donny.

"Well I'll be damned," exclaimed Aldo, almost unsure what his eyes were seeing.

* * *

Catherine and Hans got back into the car closing the door, sitting a seat away from Han. She crossed her arms over her chest, pulling at the tight fabric of her dress. Her cobalt eyes were glazed over with sleep, she could hardly keep her eyes open any longer. Resting her head on the side of the door, she drifted off to sleep, lulled by the soft rumble of the the car as it drove her back to the town house. The last thing her eyes met before she drifted were the ever watchful gray eyes of Hans always there, always attentive.


	8. Part Eight

Part Eight:

It was the brink of nightfall, the dark nighttime clouds dotted the sky sending a light chill through the little villages of France. Hans glanced over to the sleeping figure of Catherine, his hand running over his lips idly again. He watched as she tossed and turned lightly, mumbling a name he couldn't quite hear. Leaning forward, his ear hovering closer to her, he heard a very faint but distinct utterance of the name 'Pierre'. Hans moved back to his original position, his eyes still focused on Catherine. A small smile stretched over her sleeping features, peeking his interest slightly.

Though the name meant nothing to him now, he couldn't help but feel the sense that it would be a key to getting through Catherine's facade. He continued to watch, paying no mind to anything else, waiting ever so patiently for her to utter another word that could point him in the right direction.

* * *

Pierre knocked lightly on Catherine's door, holding a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. Catherine opened her eyes looking up at the smiling Frenchman.

"Bonjour ma chérie," he said setting the cup down. Catherine smiled kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"Bonjour!" She laughed as blush rose up on Pierre's cheeks.

"You should not tease me like that Catherine," he said with a laugh, his hand lingering where she kissed him.

"Sorry it's a habit," she said mischievously.

Pierre's smile dampened slightly, he knew Catherine was leaving today. He ran a hand over his stubble covered chin, trying to hide his dampened mood.

"You are going to see Monsieur Lefévre today, no?"

Catherine shifted uncomfortably, her smile falling slightly. She turned more towards Pierre, pushing a stray bit of hair from her face.

"I wanted to stay longer, believe me I did," she said in hopes to make not only Pierre feel better but herself as well. Catherine turned more towards Pierre, tossing her legs over her sheets. Pierre sat down on the edge of the bed, his brown eyes fixated slightly on the ground.

"You don't have to do this you know, all of this running around," Pierre's voice dropped lower; Catherine placed her hand on his. She could tell that her leaving was bothering him particularly more this time, especially now that more Germans were beginning to settle in France as the Occupation continued. He knew that any moment one could discover who she was and then that would be the end of her, tossed of to a concentration camp. The thought caused him to hold Catherine's hand even tighter, just so he could assure himself that she was still there.

"Look you know I'll be back," she reassured him, stroking the back of his hand idly with her thumb. Pierre looked up, staring into those cobalt eyes he loved so much. He smiled wider, just so she wouldn't think her attempts to cheer him up were done in vain.

"Of course," he raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back, "I'll be down stairs if you need me mon chérie."

Pierre lingered outside of her door, his hand holding firmly on the threshold of the door. "Je t'aime du fond de mon coeur." (I love you from the bottom of my heart.) He said lowly, hardly audible but to himself as his eyes continued to linger on Catherine.

As the early morning hour began to pass, Catherine grabbed up her things necessary for her trip to see Monsieur Lefévre. She had already used to much of her time lingering with Pierre. Reluctantly she walked down stairs where Pierre stood cleaning the bar. He stopped, midway into cleaning a coffee cup, the content light in his eyes diminishing as he saw Catherine with her bag over her shoulder. He smiled sweetly, walking up to her, clearly seeing that she was having a particularly hard time leaving this time.

"You know I'll be right here waiting for you," he said pulling her into a tight warm hug.

Catherine held tighter, nodding her head. She pulled away, laughing stiffly, pushing her hair from her face.

"Hopefully this won't be as long as the other times." She tried to sound cheerful, but her voice only betrayed her.

"Don't worry, you can't get rid of me that easy," he said nudging her with his arm, "Now come one its getting late, you need to get a good start before people start walking around."

Pierre walked with Catherine outside, the sun had just started to hang in the sky. The dim light of the early morning was hardly anything at the moment. He nudged her again, he knew that it would not be safe for her to linger any longer. She looked over her shoulder, still trying to keep that smile on her face. Giving him one last hug, Catherine walked down the gravel road, waving lightly at Pierre with a wide yet strained smile on her face. He waved back but there was a deeply paining smile hiding under his happy features.

"Au revoir mon chéri!" He tried to stay cheerful, but with each step she took the harder it was to keep up the happy facade.

As she drifted off into the distance, Pierre hung his head low, his eyes burning as salty tears tore at them. He would always worry about her, what ever she did as long as the war pounded on, Pierre would worry. He wished he had let her know how he felt, as he continued to gaze at where Catherine had been just moments ago, it killed him to know he still hadn't told her.

* * *

Catherine looked back over her shoulder as she walked on, this was among one of the hardest times she had leaving Pierre. She tried to get the thought out of her mind but yet it still managed to linger all the way to Monsieur Lefévre's house. Rearing over to the back of the house, she grabbed a key under the windowsill placing it within the lock on the outside. Firmly pushing up the heavy glass she came into the house through the bathroom window, her feet smacking the hard tile roughly. There was a rustling sound of whom she knew to be Monsieur Lefévre looking for a gun. He was a very cautious man, even before the war and he never took many chances.

The door to the bathroom flew open with a smack, Monsieur Lefévre standing ridged in the door way with a pistol in his hands. He looked over his gun, and upon seeing Catherine he lowered his weapon.

"You almost gave me a heart attack," said the Frenchman, wiping the sweat from his brow with his now open hand.

"Sorry," Catherine said halfheartedly.

"Well come into the study, we have much to discuss." Monsieur Lefévre placed the pistol in his pocket, gesturing forward for Catherine to leave before him.

"Are you still hiding those other three Jewish informants?" Asked Catherine, looking down the hallway to find them nowhere to be seen.

"Yes but with things becoming more and more tight with the Germans I had to move them to the basement," Monsieur Lefévre spoke even more nervously, as the question was one he was not comfortable with.

The two moved to the study. There they sat down at a small drawing table, where Monsieur Lefévre had a series of maps and papers laid out. Monsieur Lefévre took his time to catch his breath, he was still partially shaken up, even the thought of a threat now could unsettle him.

"Now I hope the first map I gave you and the information was received with no problem, yes?"

"Yes of course, though The Basterds did not seem to trusting," Catherine replied with a hint of hesitation in her voice, as the fresh memory of that day resurfaced in her mind.

"Well I'd expect that," Monsieur Lefévre grabbed a notebook from the table, "This here is the next thing you will be transporting to The Basterds."

He handed Catherine the notebook, leaning forward slightly in his chair. Catherine took the book from his hand placing it in her inside pocket. Monsieur Lefévre leaned back in his chair, jutting a cautionary finger at Catherine.

"If you ever are captured you get rid of this understood?" He spoke very sternly, with a very hard tone that began to break some of his English. Monsieur Lefévre scoffed, more to himself, "Wouldn't want that Bastard Landa getting a hold of it."

Catherine gestured her hand over the pocketed notebook, realising she hadn't even bothered to ask what was in it. She looked up, meeting Monsieur Lefévr's gaze.

"Just what is in this book?" She tried to sound less interested as she was, but her curiosity was unmistakeable.

"Orders from the American military, something like that along with other information necessary for them to proceed." It seemed that Monsieur Lefévre had little to no knowledge of the notebook, and that he was simply one of the various carriers of it that it had been passed to, to get to The Basterds.

Catherine felt uneasy with this book in her pocket but she simply put on a smile, brushing off the appearance of her uneasiness. Monsieur Lefévre gathered a series of maps in his hands, his mouth open as he was about to speak again. Before he had a chance to utter a single word there was a loud harsh knock at the door.

"It's the Germans," whispered Monsieur Lefévre, his face white with horror. He glanced down at the floorboards, and back at Catherine, knowing fully well either one of them was the cause of the German's untimely visit.

"Run." He mouthed, pushing Catherine back into the bathroom.

Monsieur Lefévre moved from the study, hastily locking the door with his key before moving to the front room of the house. With a tight breath in his throat, he opened the door, there standing with a beaming, charming smile was Hans Landa.

* * *

Pierre wiped his eyes roughly with the brunt of his tattered sleeve, walking back to the cafe after Catherine had left He pushed open the door, glad that it was still far too early for anyone to show up. Trudging over to the bar, he pulled a hidden bottle of scotch from underneath along with a glass.

He sat, aimlessly at the bar, his hand clasped tightly around his glass of scotch. Pierre sat there for over an hour, mulling over Catherine as he chased the bottom of the bottle of scotch. There was a loud knock at the door, Pierre looked up from his glass.

"Qui est cette personne la'?"(Who is it?) He slurred his words from behind his glass, not bothering to move from his chair or even look up.

"Das ist der Deutsche Militär, ich bin Sturmbannführer Torsten Ehret auf die SS. Ich bin suchen für Catherine Abrecan**,"** (This is the German military, I am Major Torsten Ehret of the SS. I am looking for Catherine Abrecan) called a harsh voice from behind the door.**  
**

"Ich bin Pierre Dupont, Sturmbannführer Ehret,"(I am Pierre Dupont, Major Ehret) replied Pierre looking up over his shoulder. "Ich nicht wissen Fräulein Albrecan."(I do not know miss Albrecan)

Pierre turned back around, moving his glass back to his lips. Draining down the final bit, he rolled the glass in his hand still not moving from his spot. There was another knock at the door, harder and louder than before. The German spat at Pierre, demanding him to open the door, and he did no such thing. Pierre grabbed his bottle of scotch pouring himself another half glass.

"kommen außerhalb!" The major was on the brink of tearing the poor door down, his knocks becoming more and more frequent.

Pierre gave the door a lazy glance, his brown eyes clouded, his lips and chin moist with alcohol. The major gave one final knock, breaking the door down with his heel. His face was cherry red, his gloved hands clenched so tight his nails must have been cutting into his palms. Three other men walked in behind him and with one jab of his finger he pointed to Pierre shouting commands.

A big burly man rushed over to him, punching him square in the jaw, pulling Pierre's arms around his back while he was down. The major walked up to Pierre, pulling his gloves on his hands.

"Du bist ein Lügner, Monsieur Dupont." (You are a liar) The major was fuming, his hands clenched tightly again.

"Wo ist die Mädchen, Sie schmutzig hund!"(Where is the girl, you filthy dog!)

"Mach es dir selber Sturmbannführer,"(Go fuck yourself Major)

Major Ehret gritted his teeth hard, his blood boiling like fire. He pulled his pistol from his belt, ramming Pierre in the skull with the but of his gun. Pierre felt his ears ring and buzz, his vision grow uneven. He was still conscious, but barely. He looked up at Major Ehret, a wide grin growing on his face.

"Sagen mich wo ist die Mädchen?" (Tell me where is the girl) The major pointed the pistol to Pierre's forehead, cocking the safety back

"Je préfère mourir,"(I'd rather die) Pierre spat his French in the soldiers face, finding much solace in doing so. The major wiped the saliva from his face, his icy eyes burning with rage. Major Ehret rammed his boot into Pierre's abdomen, shouting an order at the two soldiers holding him up. The two men pulled Pierre by his shoulders, dragging him outside ramming him up against the wall. The major followed them outside, his pistol readily at hand.

"Ich werde abzählen zu drei, und du werde sagen mich wo die Mädchen ist." (I'm going to count to three, and you will tell me where the girl is) Ehret pointed his pistol towards Pierre again.

"Nein." Was all Pierre said in reply. The major grew impatient, beginning to count off, ramming the pistol harder into Pierre's forehead.

"Drei!" He began at three just as he said before, his trigger finger twitching slightly. Even still Pierre stayed silent, unfazed by the Major's actions.

"Zwei!" Pierre was still silent. The major, rammed his palm into Pierre's shoulder pushing him into the wall. He waited a moment but Pierre's silence remained.

"Eines!" The major could not longer take it, he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet clean through Pierre's skull. His face was coated in blood along with his uniform, his breath hard and rough as he began to pant. The other two men let Pierre's arms go, letting him fall limp into a lake of his own blood.

* * *

Catherine placed her hear to the door, but she could only hear a muffled form on the conversation. She moved over to the window, seeing a town car and around five Germans standing idly outside. There was no way in hell she'd get out of this while they were there, she would just have to wait. Slipping down to the floor, Catherine held her knees to her chest, waiting for over an hour for some movement from the soldiers. She looked back out of the window, finally the group began to move, walking into the house. This was her chance, she pushed open the window, slipping out into the dirt and grass. Almost out of nowhere there was the loud rush of raining bullets inside the house causing Catherine to jump, taking the wrong step to the left.

From the corner of his eye one lingering German noticed Catherine, he darted towards her pinning her down on the ground. Catherine began to kick and punch at the man, but he was far to large for her to handle. The German yanked her by her arm, pulling her roughly on to her feet.

"Herr Oberst!" He called, catching the attention on the passing Colonel. Catherine felt her blood run like ice as the man who met her eyes was one she had fought so hard to avoid, and now he was staring right at her.

* * *

"Wake up schatz," Hans lightly tapped his hand over Catherine's face, coaxing her from her sleeping state. Catherine almost jumped as she slipped from her dream only to meat the devil who was there moments before.

She looked around, re-accustoming herself to her surroundings, the dream felt so real it was like traveling back in time. Catherine looked back at Hans, his sly, charming smirk ever so present on his aged face. Hans let ot a breathy laugh, dragging his hands along the lower side of her dress, letting the fabric seep through his fingers.

"There's much you need to tell me mein schatz, and this time 'no' is not an answer," he said darkly.


	9. Part Nine

Part Nine:

Catherine felt her skin tingle, her entire body shiver. There was no telling with Hans what lengths he would go to, to get the answers he wanted, and it was in no interest of Catherine to find out this man's limits.

Hans chuckled lightly, letting his hand slip slowly from her thigh. His grey eyes tore into hers with a teasing, almost playful glint welling within them. Tapping her lightly on her thigh, Hans slipped out of the car, opening his door widely for Catherine to follow. She stepped lightly, carrying the edges of her dress in her hand. Her head felt like it was on fire as she forced herself to get up, she was still half asleep. With one misjudged foot Catherine stumbled forward, heading right for the pavement. Her hands jerked outward latching onto Hans' shoulders. Her knees skidded harshly on the ground, causing her to dig her nails sharply intro his uniform.

Catherine felt his hand support the base of her back, and when she looked up at him there like always was that unmistakable smirk.

"Are you alright?" He glanced down at her knees, assessing the damage for himself.

Catherine stumbled over her words, wincing slightly as her eyes shifted to her knees.

"Are you always so accident prone mein liebling," he looked at her with a raised brow, his smirk pressing even deeper in his lips.

Hans simply shook his head, pulling Catherine into his arms carrying her bridal style into the town house. He pulled her arms around his neck, lessening the strain on his arms. Catherine bit her lip harshly, not looking Hans in the eye. It didn't bother him that she never looked at his eyes anymore, though he found that this shyness was not becoming of her.

Hans walked over to the bathroom, finding him in the position to play doctor once more. Pealing her dress up, taking with it a cote of dirt and blood he got a better look at her beat up legs. Under all the blood and dirt he could see older scars, ones that looked ragged and rough.

He felt a rare tinge of sympathy if it could be called that, tear at him at the sight of the scars on her body, and for a man like Hans, anything remotely close to sympathy was not a commonplace companion in his mind.

"Take off your dress mein liebe." He uttered his command very straightly as not to be taken the wrong way. Hans knew if such scars were apparent on her legs, there were sure to be more, and he was always the most curious of men.

Catherine hesitated, her hands shaking in her lap. She could feel his eyes on her, there was no need to look up.

"Now, please," Hans added.

Catherine never heard him say please before and the light pleasantry stood out hard in her mind. She closed her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth as she slowly pulled away the dress, exposing her skin to Hans' icy gray eyes. The white fabric pooled at her feet like a cloud of bright smoke. Catherine kept her eyes firmly closed, her arms moving over her undergarments to hide her more promiscuous parts.

Hans' eyes widened with keen interest, just as he suspected her body was lined with even more, even deeper hardened gashes; just what happened to this poor girl?

Hans opened his mouth to say something but Catherine cut him off before he had a chance, another rarity that hardly ever happened.

"Don't," was all she said. Catherine already knew he would ask and she couldn't bear to tell him of all people that part of her life. Hans thought carefully, it would not be wise to test this, or at least not now. No this one needed more time, and it would be utterly foolish, stupid even to pursue it.

Catherine felt a mixture of emotions stir within her along with harsh, relentless memories. Not even Pierre knew about her scars and he was practically a brother to Catherine. But even still there was something pulling her to somewhere unknown, an uncharted part of her emotions that she couldn't be sure about. Catherine looked up at Hans, watching as his eyes flowed over her scars, was that sympathy etched on those charming features?

"Are you satisfied colonel?" Her voice was very small, she could hardly stand such scrutiny from Hans any longer.

"Satisfied is a very inappropriate word liebe but yes."

Catherine was surprised to hear this from him, she knew for a fact sympathy was not a key form of his character nor his personality so it was quite odd to hear him speak in such a way.

"You confuse me H-Hans." His name felt so foreign on her tongue, she couldn't even figure what came over her to call him by name.

Hans' smirk found its way back on the face as Catherine uttered his name, he could see her tense up stiffly as if she were waiting for him to correct her.

"Good," he teased grabbing a cloth to wipe down her legs. He ran water over the cloth, pressing it on her knees and down her shin.

Hans let his fingers glide over her soft tender flesh, caressing her bruises with light hands. After he was done he tossed the bloody cloth in the waterbasin, pulling bandages from the cabinet again.

Like before he bound and dressed her wound, quickly and easily; this was practically second nature to him, for he had served as a field medic during most of the corse of WWI. Hans took at careful moment to servey his work, running his hands around the bandages, pulling curtain

"Try standing," he commanded, moving from her.

Catherine gave him and her lower half a weary glance, not completely trusting of her own legs. After a minute or so of hesitation, she set her feet on the ground. After a few moments she caught her balance, though she had to use the sink for support.

She looked up, Hans was still standing well away from her. Her knees wobbled unevenly, throwing her more off balance, and it didn't help she was still half asleep. Catherine began to walk past Hans, grabbing on to various this on the wall to hold herself. Her legs felt stiff from the bandages, along with the hard bruise that had formed there. Finally Catherine mad it to her door, her hand gasping tightly on the threshold of the room.

Hans followed behind, but still stayed a good distance away. Catherine opened the door, taking one cautious step inside. She glanced up, Hans walked up to her, placing his hand on the door holding it open. He leaned forward, craning over Catherine.

"I have one question before you go mein lieblling," he said softly. Catherine simply nodded, her grip growing harder on the door the longer she spent standing up.

"Who is Pierre?"

Catherine felt a sharp pain tear at her at the mention of Pierre's name, so much so that it took her away from noticing that Hans managed to find his name somehow.

"He was a friend, a brother really, the only family I had left." Catherine felt tears threaten to fall from her eyes, she was not easily emotion except. when the subject was her family, everything else she had grown hard too.

Hans said nothing, his face opened up slightly as if he just figured something out. The grin on his face slipped into a small smile, he leaned forward placing a soft chaste kiss on Catherine's cheek.

"Gute Nacht schatz,"

* * *

Hans sat alone in his office, leafing through Catherine's file. She was quite the slippery character, her prowess of hiding for so long was impressive. Normally characters of her nature who post such a threat to the German war effort were caught and disposed of quickly and seamlessly; oh but not dear Catherine. Hans pressed his cigarette to his lips taking a long drag, his eyes still darting along the file.

There was one faded photograph tucked inbetween one of the reports, a tall, broad shouldered man with pericing eyes stared at Hans from the photograph. Those eyes were unmistakable, with one glance he knew this man was Catherine's father all by looking at his eyes. He was suited in a rugged British military uniform, though the uniform was that from the first world war.

The name Benedict Albrecan was written on the reverse side of the photograph and the amount of information on him stopped there. The report very briefly mentioned his death, but the circumstances surrounding said death were uncertain and the information couldn't be completely relied on. Whoever investigated Catherine and her father first was surely an very incompetent idiot by Hans' standards, sloppy and uncoordinated with his information.

Hans tossed the file away from him, the only thing useful in the damn thing was his own notes, of which he had little of at the moment.

Catherine laid flat on the bed, her hands tucked under her pillow, her legs close to her chest. Her mind ran full speed ahead, blocking out all the pain in her legs, all she could think about was that one idea flowing in her mind, the one that always manage to resurface.

'You are an idiot!' she growled at herself, her face contorting into a deep sneer.

Catherine closed her eyes tightly, doing all she could to block that lingering thought in her mind. Nothing she did was enough, and like always the same image persisted.

'damn bastard,' she spoke aloud this time but her voice was muffled by the pillow.

* * *

Hans woke up the following morning rather abruptly. It still bothered him how much information he lacked, it had been almost a week now and nothing was coming up. Hans glanced over at the mirror, running his hand through he hair as a make-shift comb. His uniform was not as neat as he would have wanted but he wanted to get to Catherine as soon as possible, the curiosity was getting the best of him.

He slipped down the hall, making his way to her door, peering in through a crack. For once she was awake and she was pacing steadily. She had her arms crossed, with one hand clasped tightly over her mouth giver her the appearance of being in deep thought.

Back and forth she moved, to and fro from the left and right of the room, mumbling lowly as she did. Something must have been bothering her, but what, was the question. Hans pressed his ear to the door, making sure not to make a sound as he did.

"Damn," he heard her mutter, "Damn it!"

Hans' face was fixated in concentration, trying to figure what was going on. Catherine continued to mumble, this time a bit more clearly.

"Why, no how is the question," Catherine continued to pace, "I'm a bloody fool is why, bastard."

Hans felt a small smirk cross his lips, but he still kept his ear firmly on the door and his eyes ever so slightly peering in. Catherine finally stopped pacing, sitting down at the foot of the bed, her eyes focused firmly on the ground.

"What would you think of me now dad?" Her voice was now even more hushed, her hands began to fold into each other, burrowing in her lap.

Hans took another, closer look into the room, he could see, just barely part of her face. Her hair hid most of her features but from what he could see her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed from crying. Catherine moved her hands from her lap burring her face in them, now completely hiding the rest of her features.

It was now that Hans took his moment to enter the room, finding she had calmed herself down enough to not be too startled by his sudden presence.

"Guten Morgen liebe," he said talking a step into the room.

Catherine jerked her head up, roughly wiping her puffy eyes were tears used to be.

"Guten Morgen," her voice was constricted, tight and almost rough.

"Are you ready for us to begin?"

Catherine looked up at him, an almost pained expression on her face. She stood up crossing her arms in a show of strength, though she had little left anymore.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Then tell me, and this time I hope you mulled over your answer well enough, " said Hans, "What connection do you have with The Basterds?"

It felt a bit odd to finally get back on subject, while also it was a breath of fresh air for him. Catherine let out a tight sigh, about to give her answer.

"If you want anything from me, I must get something in return." She spoke plainly, sounding as if Hans gave her any other answer than a 'yes' she would resort to being silent once again.

"That's not how it works mein liebe and you know it, I'm not going to play this little game with you."

"I told you they are not worth your protection or your loyalty for they share none of that for you." Hans slipped in his small retort, taking a step closer to Catherine. "All that's left is hear and now and whether or not you can make it through this war alive."

Hans pushed Catherine forward making her fall back on her bed, he was dangerously close, his arms once more on both sides of her waist, his eyes focused intently. He leaned forward his lips grazing the soft flesh on her neck, etching closer to her ear.

"What would you say if I told you The Basterds already abandoned you, thinking you're a traitor because of one little misunderstanding?" Hans whispered softly in her ear, his warm breath cascading over her neck sending a resonant shiver all across her body.

"I'd call you a liar," said Catherine having to fight to choke out her answer.

Hans straightened himself from Catherine, standing up fully. He bounced un his heels for a moment, thinking on a brief thought.

"Well then," he said simply.

Catherine sat up herself, pushing herself from the bed. She took a few steps past Hans, looking over her shoulder at him. Hans could see the look in her eyes, there was a lacking layer of trust between them that simple threats and negotiation could not replace. Now as Hans began to think more, he would most likely have to change his methods of interrogation to coax an answer out of Catherine. He could tell that most of her relationships were based foremost on trust which she had little with Hans, maybe all it took was to change that.

Hans placed his hand over his chest, curling his lips into a smile. He took a step in front of Catherine, making sure he had her undivided attention.

"I think we misjudge each other mein schatz," he began.

"I'm listening," said Catherine looking up at Hans again. Her voice was still rather hesitant but she sounded more receptive now.

"What is it you want me to tell you?" Hans spoke carefully, feeling odd tht he was saying this, it was so out of the ordinary for him, but by the look on Catherine's face it was just what he needed to do.

"I've known too many liars in my life, and if you want anything from me I want to trust you." She spoke as if she had little faith in her words, which wasn't far from the truth.

No matter what ever she was starting to feel towards Hans he was still a damn slimy, manipulative, charming bastard in her eyes, and she had little faith anything could change that.

Hans couldn't help but grin slightly, feeling a sense of pride in himself that he was correct in his assumption of Catherine.

"Of course," he bent down and kissed her hand lightly, "What would you like to know?"


	10. Part Ten

Part Ten:

There was a deadly silence hanging in the air between Hans and Catherine. Hans stood near her left, bent low with his hand over his chest in a show of trust and submission whilst Catherine stood at his right lingering by the door ready to run. Her breath was hard in her throat, her palms felt sweaty and stiff, a cold shiver falling down her arms and neck.

"Who are you really?" Catherine finally spoke though her words still did not properly suit what she wanted to ask.

Hans grinned slightly letting out a light breathy laugh, he straightened his posture opening his arms wide in a innocent gesture. His arms fell to his sides as he raised them, smacking the sides of his uniform lightly.

"Are you asking in the sense of a more personal nature mein liebe?"

"Yes, you know my name, where I'm from but I am at a disadvantage as to I only know your name." Catherine worded her reply plainly, as to avoid anymore toying on Hans' part.

"Well seeing as it interests you I'll tell you," said Hans, "I am originally from Vienna, Austria; I only left due to a direct order from the Führer."

Catherine turned more around, looking Hans in his eyes, he was cooperating too easily for her tastes. She took in a steadying breath, trying to alleviate some of her anxiety. Catherine heard Hans shift over to her side, feeling his hands grasp her shoulders.

"Now for this to work I must get something in return as well schatz." Hans nuzzled his chin in the crook of her neck letting his hot breath fall over her bare skin.

"Of course," said Catherine shakily as she bit her lip. She peered over at her shoulder seeing Has stare up at her, un-moving from where he was.

"Now answer me this, what do you have to do with The Basterds?"

Catherine tensed up, there was no backing out now, she took in a deep breath forming her words in her mind. Part of her was screaming, telling her to still protest against Hans, but still there was the other half fighting with it.

"I-I'm an informant."

Hans smiled his grip on her shoulders tightening slightly, she could feel his chest tighten up as he began to speak, pressing his medals into her back as he did. He moved from her back slightly, moving more towards her front, his smile was unmistakable.

"Now that wasn't so hard," he said teasingly.

Catherine took in a sharp breath feeling regret crawl over her like a dark fog. The relief she felt from finally telling Hans what she did dulled in comparison to the amount of guilt welling up inside of her.

"Now as we agreed, its your turn to ask a question." Hans moved from her shoulder but he still stood very close.

"Why did you decide to take me in instead of letting your men take me away?" This question had bubbled in her mind many times before, and as the opportunity presented itself she couldn't help but ask it.

"Oh come now schatz, I am a detective, its my job to know about individuals such as yourself, so naturally I took it upon myself to question you," said Hans rather smugly as a deeper smirk crossed his lips.

"That's besisdes the point there was no need for you to take this so far, wh-"

"Ah, ah, ah mein liebe its my turn to ask a question, you already had yours." Hans cut Catherine off with a quick abruptness that took her by surprise.

"Now, how long were you an informant for The Basterds?"

"Almost a year now," she replied feeling that guilty weight above her grow even heavier now.

"Not too long it seems," Hans commented idly running his hand over his lips.

Hans moved from Catherine, there was something he needed to look into now, and with Catherine finally cooperating things would now be easier to deal with. He walked back to the door, stopping for a moment. Looking over his shoulder he gave Catherine a quick look over, silently mulling over a few thoughts in his mind. He turned back around, pressing the palm of his hand into the threshold of the door looking down at her.

"I have a few things I need to do before I continue with you, it seems you'll be alone for a while."

Catherine couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she doubted his absence would give her any room to escape after all he was not a stupid man and would not let something as simple as this get in the way of his investigation. Hans let out a brief chuckle, pulling a key from his pocket, resting his other hand on the door knob.

"Now you will be locked in this room, so really your options of escape are quite limited." Hans began to step outside of the room and close the door, "Do try and behave yourself while I'm gone."

He gave Catherine another teasing smirk, locking the door the rest of the way. The door gave one firm click as Hans locked the door, followed by the echo of his footsteps down the hallway. Catherine let out a deep sigh, at least she wouldn't have to divulge anymore information, for now.

* * *

Hans walked outside of the house, pulling another key from his tunic locking the outside door with another firm click. He took in a deep breath of the cool fresh evening air, feeling an exhilarating sense of contentment as the air filled his lungs; it seemed he had been spending far too much time inside for his own good. Hans gave a quick look around, there was almost no one out as of right now, this made him feel even better. He began to walk down the street, his bootheels digging deep into the gravelly road with each step. The slow monotonous motion was almost calming as the constant sound of crunching gravel filled his ears. Hans continued to walk a few blocks, turning the corner and arriving at another small town house. Before knocking at the door, Hans gave his uniform a quick but careful look over, brushing his fingers through his caramel hair. He knocked firmly at the door, bouncing on his heels as he waited to be answered.

The door opened slightly, and the man on the other side gave has a tight but genuine smile. He opened the door fully, gesturing his hand towards Hans.

"Hallo, Hallo Hans," said the man shaking Hans' hand.

Hans smiled briefly, bowing slightly, "Hallo Mathias."

"Komm, komm was ist es Si)e müssen Hans?" (Come, come what is it you need Hans?) The man gestured Hans inside quickly, looking out past him cautiously.

Hans smiled walking inside, though part of him didn't want to just yet. The man closed the door behind him, turning the lock. Mathias was a much older man, one who had grown to be extremely cautious over the years. He had thin salt and pepper hair and a beard of the same color; relatively tall but very lanky in his military uniform. The olive green tunic and jodhpurs looked like a sheet on him more than anything.

Mathias sat down at his chair, pulling a pipe from the table near him, placing it at his lips. Smoke slipped from its end, twirling into a cloud around the aging man.

"Was bringt dir hier?" (What brings you here?) He asked moving his pipe slightly from his lips.

"Ich habe ein Mädchen in mein Pflege," (I have a girl in my care) said Hans in reply.

"Was ist ihr namen?" (What is her name?)

"Catherine Elliot Albrecan." Her name practically danced off his lips, Hans couldn't help but grin slightly.

"Ich weiß von ihr," (I know of her) said Mathias.

"Tun Sie?" (You do?) Asked Hans, admittedly surprised at this.

"Ja, und Ich weiß von ihr vater Benedict." (Yes, and I know of her father Benedict)

Mathias had Hans' attention now. Hans leaned forward in his own chair, resting his elbows in his knees, interlocking his fingers with a intense look of concentration etched in his face. Mathias smiled, puffing his pipe.

"Sagen mich," (Tell me) Hans hid the longing in his voice but his curiosity was insatiable, he couldn't help himself.

* * *

Hans felt his breathing rush in his throat, he had been so close to the information for so long and he hadn't gone to find it. He couldn't believe how much he knew now, oh he was not mistaken when he thought of Catherine as an interesting little puzzle. Armed with new information to use, he walked into the town house, his blood pumping rapidly in his veins. It had been quite sometime since an investigation gave him this much a rush or even ever, oh what other information could be hiding within Catherine?

Hans walked down the hall thrusting the key to her locked room into the door. With one steadying breath Hans calmed himself, but on the inside he was bursting at the seems with anticipation. He looked into the room to much of his disappointment to find her fast asleep, her arms tight against her chest. Hans felt like almost like a child who hadn't gotten his way, he tensed up tightly almost running towards Catherine. He stopped himself mid-stride, trying to recollect himself. Hans turned on his heel, walking back out of the door, though he still felt that pull act on him again.

As Hans left the room Catherine opened her eyes, letting out a sigh sitting up. She ran a hand through her messy black hair, frowning disapprovingly as her fingers caught on a knot. Catherine growled lowly, sleep had escaped her once more.

* * *

Hans laid fast asleep within his bed, calm and comfortable, the same could not be said for Catherine. It was the middle of the night, her eyes were wide open in a sleepless daze. No matter what she could not sleep. Her insomnia had been getting worse, and now that one thought she had been mulling over refused to go away. She couldn't help but think of Hans, it made her sick that she was so compelled by him. Everyday this feeling had grown, it was hardly bearable now, she could hardly stand it any longer. Catherine pressed her face into her pillow, trying to snuff out her thoughts and sleep, but it was no use. Her eyes flashed open once more despite her vain attempts to fall back asleep. She tossed her sheet from her legs, planting her feet onto the cold ground. Goosebumps covered her flesh as the cool air from the hall hit her bear skin. She walked down the hall not sure what she was looking for. There was a light groan in a room to her right, there was no doubt that it came from Hans. Catherine moved near the sound looking right at the entrance of his room, and the door that had drifted open.

She stood by his door, her hands grasping hard on the side of the wall. Her entire body shook as that pull acted on her again, she could clearly see the outline of Hans' figure in the dark room. She took another step forward, feeling her knees grow weaker with each weary step. Her cobalt eyes tore into the dark room, with each step she became more sure of what she wanted. Catherine crawled onto Hans' bed, walking on all fours. She moved on top of him, breathing heavily. Catherine slipped under his covers, pulling his arms around her. Hard tears fell from her eyes as he grasped her tightly in his sleeping state.

"You bastard." She sobbed, holding his arm tighter to her.

She never would imagine herself like this, once before he repulsed her but now she didn't know what to think. What kind of man was he to make her jump so easily to the other extreme so easily? Tears continued to stream from her cheeks, her fingers gripped tighter on the sheets as her thoughts began to boil over. Catherine buried her face in his chest, muffling her harsh sobs. Her hand gripped his nightshirt tightly between her fingers, jerking it toward her damp eyes. She could hardly control herself any longer, and there she laid sobbing roughly as her eyes of cobalt blue hid from the world as tears filled them.

"W-Why did I-I have to f-fall in l-love with the likes of y-you," sobbed Catherine as she buried her face deeper in his shirt. There she laid for hours on end, just to make that damn feeling she felt for him go away, she didn't want it but still it lingered. Her sobs lulled her to sleep, laying there in a tattered mess in Hans' arms.

Her breathing slowly became steady as she slipped into deeper sleep. Hans opened his eyes slightly, peering down at the sleeping figure curled in his arms. For a moment he swore to be dreaming, but as he felt her move and her hand tighten he knew this was no dream. He could hear her whispering ever so slightly, ever so silently. A smirk played at his lips, she actually looked peaceful in her sleeping state, her closed eyes fluttered slightly and a small happy smile danced on her lips. Hans ran his hand along her back, letting his arm wrap fully around her. His gaze shifted towards the ceiling, his grey eyes searching into the darkness for some hint of structure for himself. Hans looked back down at Catherine, feeling something of a pull towards her that he couldn't quite explain. He released a deep breath, leaning his head back and closed his eyes, he could think on this no longer.

* * *

Catherine opened her eyes, she could see a wide vineyard though it hadn't been used for many years. There was a distinct smell of morning tea flowing through the air, with the light hint of strawberry jam mixed in. She looked over her shoulder, and there standing in the door was her father, a brief smile stretched on his face.

"Catherine come inside," he called out to her.

"Just one moment," said Catherine calling back. She picked up her book from the ground, sprinting towards her father.

"You know you can't avoid your French lesson forever," he said teasingly, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Papa I already know two languages what do I need a third for?" Asked Catherine in protest.

"Oh you know fully well why," he gave her a playful smack on the arm pulling her inside.

Catherine simply shook her head, reluctantly taking a seat at the table. It had been four months now that they had been in France, and it seemed with everyday the Germans grew closer to the borders. Catherine could tell this unsettled her father but she knew he would never, could never return to England.

She took her French book into her hand trying to mouth the first few phrases while her father corrected her.

There was a knock at the door, though from her knowledge they were expecting no one. Her father stopped speaking immediately, his gaze shifting over his shoulder. He stood up from his chair, slowly walking over to the door.

"Who is it?" He called out from behind the door.

"It's me Tomas, look I need to talk to you," said the man behind the door.

Catherine's father opened the door a crack, speaking in a hushed whisper to the man behind the door.

"Why did you travel all the way from England to find me?"

"The Germans are going to take over France, France has surrendered Benedict." The man was almost in hysterics as he spoke, he could hardly get out his words quick enough.

"What?!" Benedict could hardly believe what he was hearing, her shot a worried glance at Catherine feeling almost lost.

"What about my daughter, I must get her out of France!" Cried Benedict taking a step outside.

Catherine could no longer hear what they were saying, in fact she could hardly understand what was going on right now. She got up from her chair, about to approach the door when her father came rushing back in. He grasped her by her shoulders tears falling from his cobalt eyes.

"I have to go away my darling," he said, choosing back a sob. He moved one arm into his coat pulling a notebook from it. Taking her hand in his he placed the notebook in her grasp.

"Now you find the people in this book, they will help you, after I'm gone you'll have to carry on in my place alright."

"I don't understand," said Catherine as tears streamed down her cheeks, "where are you going papa?"

"I can't explain it to you now, its complicated." He took in a breath trying to pull himself together. "If I don't come back look for a man who goes by the name Remi Lefévre, he will be able to help you."

Her father moved from her, walking out the door. Catherine couldn't let him go so easily, she sprinted to the door, throwing it back open. Running back out onto the gravel she looked out hopping to catch her father, but he was already gone.


	11. Part Eleven

Part Eleven :

Catherine's father jumped out of the town car, finding himself infront of a bar. He looked over his shoulder at Tomas, unsure if they were in the right place.

"Just go in through the back, they'll be waiting for us," Called out Tomas from inside the car.

"Well aren't you coming in?"

"I um, have things I need to get done first, tell them I'll be in soon." Tomas was hesitant, he seemed to be preoccupied with something. Benedict took in a sharp breath waving Tomas off.

"See you later then."

Benedict took the back entrance of the bar, walking cautiously inside. He held his pistol tightly in his coat pocket, he had tossed his military uniform out by the back as to avoid being picked out in a crowd. His cobalt eyes peered into the main room of the bar, his grip growing even tighter. A hand landed on his shoulder making him flinch.

"You're getting jumpy old boy," said a Scotsman, "Where's Tomas?"

The Scotsman was a tall man, much taller than Benedict; he had rich thick amber hair and a full beard. He looked as if he could take a slue of men in a fight and still come back for more punches. His noes looked as if it had been broken one to many times and his green eyes seemed ti have taken a similar toll. Benedict released his grip on his pistol at the sight of a familiar face almost letting a smile escape onto his lips.

"Oh he'll be here in a minute, he had to run to get a few things situated," Benedict replied, "So where is the bloody German?"

Benedict looked over the bar but he could not pick out anyone in particular, in fact he didn't even know the name of the man they were meeting let alone what he looked like. The Scotsman let out a haughty laugh a wide but wavering smile on his lips at Benedict.

"Oh always about priority, he's over there." The Scotsman jutted a finger in the German's direction, pointing at a very tall lanky man.

"How can we trust him Colin?" Benedict took one look at the German and did not like the idea of collaborating with him. He had the look of a man, in Benedict's opinion who could not be trusted; everything about him shot up red flags in his mind.

"Look he's been in our contact for a while now, we can trust him."Colin gave Benedict a firm slap on his back smiling weakly, gesturing forward to their table.

Colin's explanation was little help to Benedict, there was still that fear eating at him that he just couldn't shake, no matter what Colin or the German could say would ever change.

"Herr Graham, its been quite some time," Said the German, standing up to shake Colin's hand, "And who might you be sir?"

"Benedict Albrecan," he replied stiffly shaking the German's hand, "I'm afriad I don't know your name sir."

"Oh forgive me, I am Mathias Brandt." Mathias smiled pleasantly, sitting back down.

"Tomas will be here shortly Benedict informed me he had a couple of arrands to do," explained Colin as Mathias began to look around.

"Ah well should we begin or would you rather we wait?"

"We should just get started" Benedict chimed.

"Alright, Mathias here has been telling me that he could find a way to move your daughter to Spain, I thought you'd appreciate that."

"How? There is absolutely no movement out of France now?" Benedict felt even more on edge now, his thoughts gravitated back to his daughter, he wanted to get up and run back to her, he wanted that more than anything.

"With my help you can get her out of France," chimed in Mathias, "If I may what is her name?"

"Catherine Elliot Albrecan," replied Benedict rubbing his face with his hands.

"What is her age, and can she speak any other language than English?"

Benedict looked up from his hands, a bit stand-offish from Mathias' questions. Colin patted him lightly on the shoulder trying to be a bit of support.

"Why, what does that have to do with anything?" Asked Benedict his voice moving close to a growl.

"I need to know this much to help you Benedict," said Mathias.

"She's twenty four and she speaks German," said Benedict in reply.

In the midst of the conversation Tomas came walking in, his brown hair was ruffled and he had a dark blackening bruise forming on his jaw. Colin gave him a worried glance standing up, Mathias stopped talking for a moment looking up at Tomas.

"Bloody hell what happened to you Tomas?" Asked Benedict getting up from his chair as well.

"Fucking German patrol." Tomas glanced at Mathias, "No offence to you." Mathias smiled waving off what Tomas said, he placed his elbows on the table resting his head on his folded hands.

"Tell me, do you know the names of the men who attacked you?" Asked Mathias.

"Nah, I was a little busy trying not to get shot," growled Tomas sitting down. Mathias looked at him with a raised brow, not too convinced by him.

"Ah well good to see they did not take you away, although how strange that you got away so easily." Mathias could see how uneasy Tomas was and from his perspective his little story didn't add up.

"Germans aren't known to be so sloppy as to let someone slip through their fingers so easily," Mathias unfolded his hands staring intently at the battered man infront of him.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Growled Tomas, gritting his teeth slightly.

"Oh but of course sir I am." Mathias waited to see what Tomas would do. Tomas gave a worried glance at Benedict and Colin, his hand moving into his coat.

"I might as well finish this eh?" Tomas pulled a revolver from his coat throwing a shot at Mathias, the German anticipated the shot and ducked down under the table the bullet missing by inches.

Benedict jumped to wrestle the gun from Tomas causing another shot to fire from the pistol. The bullet flew right from the barrel into his chest causing his breath to stop in his throat. Benedict fell back clutching his chest falling back on to the ground with a firm smack, blood pooling underneath him.

"You bloody traitor!" Growled Colin, tackling Tomas to the ground.

Tomas struggled to get his pistol, firing blind shots at Colin. The burly Scotsman at last grabbed hold of the pistol but at the same time Tomas finally got a proper grip on the trigger. He closed his eyes firing the pistol ahead of him sending the bullet clean through Colin's forehead. Tomas leaned his head back on the floor trying his hardest to catch his breath. Mathias stood up from the table looking down at Tomas, who was still pinned down by Colin's corpse.

Mathias pulled his Lugar pistol from his coat pointing down at Tomas. He had absolutly no hint of hesitation on his face, on the contrary he seemed calm as ever. Tomas felt fear take over him as he looked up at the German.

"It seems we indeed had a snake in our midst, and how interesting it wasn't the German who turned out to be the traitor," teased Mathias knowing fully well that Benedict was on the ends about his part.

"Look don't kill me, I was pressured into this, they told me if I didn't kill them they would-" Mathias cut Tomas off.

"Tsk, tsk, you know as well as I do that wasn't the case," Mathias cocked the safety, "Auf Wiedersehen Herr Richards"

Blood splattered up at Mathias, who didn't bat an eye at it. He let out a single sigh, replacing his Lugar in his coat. Mathias rubbed the blood from his face and sleeve walking out the front of the bar. He looked over his shoulder at the three bodies lying in pools of their own blood, though he didn't show it he felt much sympathy for Benedict knowing now his daughter truly was left alone. Mathias stopped for a moment taking a step back into the bar. He walked back to Benedict's body kneeling down by him. With careful fingers he moved into his coat till he found his wallet, inside were a few french and English bills, and a few stray bits of papers. Mathias continued to leaf thought the wallet till a single picture fell out of the wallet. It was a worn but you could still make out the image. There staring back at him from the photograph was a young woman with choppy black hair and striking eyes, this was no doubt Catherine.

Mathias stood up placing the wallet at photograph back in Benedict's hand, he muttered a brief goodbye before finally leaving the bar, there was little he could do now.

* * *

Catherine woke up in a cold sweat, her entire body shaking harshly. She could hardly steady herself her breathing was so erratic. Her knuckles pressed white to the bone as she griped the sheets tightly. This dream felt so real so vivid, tears began to stream down her cheeks as Catherine began to hyperventilate. She wanted nothing more than to scream, to let out all the pain her trails had caused her in one animistic burst. Catherine buried face in her knees which she pressed into her chest, simply wanting to hide from the world.

There was a dull knock on the door, pulling Catherine from her thoughts. There stood Hans in the middle of the doorway, leaning back with his arms crossed against his chest, a sly smirk pressed on his lips. Like always he was clean cut, uniform perfectly in line and straight, the picture perfect image of charm and eloquence. Hans moved from the door uncrossing his arms, walking over to her.

"Shall we?" He gestured towards the study, awaiting her to come and follow him.

Catherine looked up from her knees, though she still held them tightly. She could feel her heart begin to race again as Hans crossed her eyes, her mind reliving every moment of her confession to him. 'Thank god he didn't hear me,' she mumbled to herself as the memory laid fresh in her mind.

Hans moved closer to her pressing his lips to her ear, "I wouldn't take too long now mein liebe, considering where you are I might have other ideas in mind."

Catherine's eyes widened slightly, a rush of red blush filled her cheeks, a reaction even she didn't anticipate. She moved her legs from her chest slowly getting up from the bed. Hans chuckled lowly moving away from her; he grinned even wider as he noticed the bright red color on her cheeks.

Hans guided Catherine to the study once more, he closed the door behind them as Catherine took a seat at the desk. She looked up at Hans, who seemed to be keenly determined as of that moment. He bounced on his heels as if he were almost excited about something, though his face did not convey such feeling.

"Oh I have found out a few things about you in my short time away mein liebe," he said a grin pressing into his face.

Catherine gave him a skeptical look, raising her brow, but she thought it best to play along.

"What have you found out?" Catherine could hardly believe he found anything of real use to him, she had mad damn sure all her bases were covered. There was little to no chance anything had slipped through.

"In fact what I know might be something you don't even know yourself mein schatz."

"And what might that be?" Catherine was still in a great deal of disbelief but then again she knew better than to take much for granted when dealing with Hans.

"The facts of your father's death," said Hans.

Catherine refused to believe he knew anything about her father's death, she gritted her teeth jutting a finger at Hans giving his a sharp warning glare taking a step forward.

"You. Don't. Know. Anything!" She growled. Hans took a step forward his grin practically plastered on his face.

"Oh but I do schatz, why would I lie to you?"

"You want to toy with m-me!" Her voice wavered slightly but it still held the same ferocity as before.

Catherine pushed Hans back by his shoulders, feeling anger boil up inside her. He was pushing far too hard and she would not be dominated so easily. She shot him an icy glare, her cobalt eyes staring daggers at Hans. Hans chuckled lightly, a sly grin danced on his lips. He took one stride forward cornering Catherine to a wall, blocking her way of escape. His breathing grew faster, his chest filling rapidly with air. The two played back and forth at this though Catherine hadn't managed to gain the upper hand. She raised her hand to push him back again but he caught her wrist, ramming her against the wall once more. He released her wrists, his hands smoothing down to her waist. Hans gave Catherine a mischievous grin, chuckling lightly as his breathing quickened.

Hans held Catherine up hard against the wall, papers flying astray. She grasped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging deep in his tunic. He held his hands on her hips, pulling her legs around his waist. His heart pounded in his chest, feeling heavier and heavier as the seconds passed. Her anger slipped right through her fingers, fading away as her mind grew numb.

Catherine felt the air escape her lungs, her heart pounding, mixing with the sound of Hans' heart beat. Catherine could feel that impulse own her again, that carnal desire burning welling within her. That same feeling that had been taking over her all the nights before.

Hans moved his lips onto hers, taking them with one swift move; Catherine hardly had any time to protest.

His hands pulled at her underwear with a tight tug, one hand slipping between her legs. Catherine felt his hand smooth between her inner thigh, forcing them apart, the tip of his finger played dangerously close to her folds, making Catherine's body ache for his touch. She tightened up at the thought of what was happening, her legs closing around his hand.

He chuckled lowly, kissing her neck, moving till he foundered soft spot. Catherine dipped forward as he found the tender part of her neck, whilst pushing Hans' hand deeper in her folds. She moaned lightly, nuzzling her nose in his neck.

"Not this time Mein liebe," he cooed pulling his hand away. Catherine gave Hans a clouded glare, her cobalt eyes staring into his gray. He chuckled again, this time letting his grip go. He took a few steps away from Catherine, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"You almost had me again," He said sounding partially out of breath. He sat back down at the desk looking up at Catherine. Catherine could hardly stand how he could touch her so tenderly only to move away at the last second.

"Oh what a minx you are Catherine," Chuckled Hans, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.

Catherine looked down at him completely astounded at his amount of control, she hardly had any anymore. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, letting it dangle loosely between his fingers. Smoke left his lips, a light cloud forming around him.

"Do you enjoy this little game of ours mein schatz?" He asked, grinning wildly, his eyes set in an alluring, smoldering gaze. His voice bit at her like a whip, and the dark charm that he displayed in his smirk only served to tear at her more.

Catherine had no answer to this question, she looked back up at him her eyes red with tears, he former anger was all gone for she had no place for it now. Her mind had long been clouded by Hans and every move he made to her broke her resolve as well as any anger she felt towards him.

"W-Why are you toying with me?!"She growled though a sob, feeling her knees fall week. Catherine collapsed to the ground on her knees, feeling all the resolve she possibly have left leave her in that very instant.

"You intrigue me mein fraülien." He said as he pressed the cigarette to his lips again. Hans knew very well what he was doing, he could still hear her voice whispering lightly in his ear as he 'slept'; that desperate, longing tone that rang ever so clear in her unsteady sobbing voice.

Catherine looked up, tears still streaming relentlessly down her cheeks. Hans walked over to her again, kneeling down in front of her. He moved his hand across her cheek, rubbing her tears away. Catherine choked back her sobs, trying her hardest to pull herself together.

"Bitte weine nicht mein liebling," (Please don't cry my darling) said Hans pulling her into his arms. He thought back to that night she spent with him, although she believed he didn't he heard every word of her confession;he wasn't ready to end this game between them just yet or was he?

* * *

Monsieur Remi Lefévre sat alone at his house, his mind mulling over Catherine. He knew very well that she had been taken away but the Germans, and more importantly by Hans Landa. This was very unsettling, he could not help but wonder just how loyal she really was. She seemed like a trustworthy girl, her father sure was, but that did not mean a damn thing when you live in Nazi occupied France. Remi walked out of his study, walking over to his kitchen at the sound of his whistling tea kettle. No matter what he could not get her out of his mind, and with the German's always looming over his shoulder, one word out of Catherine would mean his death.

He moved back over to his dinner table, his cup of tea placed tightly in his hands. Remi moved the cup to his lips taking a sip. The tea served to calm his nerves, well at least for a moment it did. He let out a coddled sigh, though his attempts at keeping himself calm were not working too well. There was a knock at the door that made Remi freeze instantly.

"Monsieur Remi Lefévre?" Called a voice, no doubt a German by his accent.

"Ja?" Remi called back.

The door opened, and in walked a major dressed in a pressed black uniform with a long leather trench coat.

"Ich bin Sturmbannführer Dieter Hellstrom auf die SS," (I am major Dieter Hellstrom of the SS) said the major smugly.

"Tun Sie spreche Französisch Sturmbannführer?"(Do you speak English Major?) asked the Frenchman trying to piece together the German he knew.

"Nein, nur Deutsch und Englisch,"(No, just German and English)

"What is it you want major?" Asked Remi, switching to English.

"I am acting in Colonel Hans Landa's absence, he is predisposed at the moment and I have the duty of taking over his case with you sir," said Hellstrom.

"And what case does Colonel Landa have with me?" Remi had to fight not to glare at Hellstrom. He laughed at Remi, his smug grin growing even wider.

"Oh I think you know," said Hellstrom, "I believe it has something to do with Fraülein Catherine Albrecan."

"I do not know the woman you speak of major," said Remi in reply. Hellstrom chuckled lowly, his smug grin growing wider.

"Oh come now how much of a fool do you take me for?" Hellstrom took in a sigh looking back up at Remi, he should of expected the Frenchman wouldn't corporate so easily.

Hellstrom pulled out his Walther pistol, pointing at Remi his grin even wider now. Remi looked down at the gun in the German's hand, feeling his body tighten. He had his own pistol on his pocket but there was no way for him to get it. The Frenchman set his cup down licking his lips, he looked up at Hellstrom putting on a fake smile.

"There's no need for such actions Major, put your pistol away."

"Oh?" Hellstrom seemed to have no intentions of putting his Walther away, he cocked the safety of the pistol pointing it directly at Remi.

Remi would not allow himself to be shot down by the likes of Hellstrom. The Frenchman pulled his pistol from his coat taking the major almost by surprise shooting him. The major stumbled back, holding his hand to his arm, Remi had missed his mark. Hellstrom raised his Walther sending a ray of his own shots. Remi yelped as two out of the three shots fired went through his shoulder and upper arm. He knew Hellstrom had five more shots in his magazine and Remi had not intentions of taking them. The Frenchman hobbled into the bathroom locking the door. He could hear Hellstorm cursing loudly in German as he moved through the house looking for Remi. Remi hobbled over to the bathroom window, trying his hardest to pull himself over the ledge and onto the outside grass.

Blood spurted across the floor as his wounds were pressed and pulled from his attempts to jump the window. It felt like hell but Remi knew he had to get over, if he wanted to live he had to ignore the pain and jump. With one final agonizing pull Remi launched himself over the window smacking the ground with a firm thud. He wanted to scream, he bit his lips so hard it began to bleed as he repressed his screams. Remi could still hear Hellstrom rummaging through the house but it would only be a matter of time before he would find out he was no longer inside.

Struggling, Remi got onto his feet his hand holding his arm tightly to his chest. He cursed under his breath in French, his entire body burned and ached, his vision was growing hazy, he was beginning to lose his grip on reality as his mind grew numb. Although though all the pain he felt one thing was clear, he knew there was only one person who could have gave him up at that was Catherine Albrecan! Remi panted harshly but his mind was still focused on Catherine.

"I'll make sure I repay you for this!"

* * *

_Hello there lovely readers! Sorry for the wait on this chapter, I'm being a bit slow as of yet but I'm still working diligently! Anyway here is one of the last chapters! Only two more left! :( well Happy reading my lovelies! _

_-WhiteNoisePhantom_


	12. Part Twelve

Part Twelve:

Catherine brushed her hands across her sides feeling every impression that her scars made in her skin. The tips of her fingers touched the bullet wounds in her arm and shoulder sending a dull pain through her limb. She nearly died from these wounds, it was a wonder she was still alive after it. Somehow she managed to live through it all, but what good was it she was useless in helping Remi or The Basterds now. Catherine moved a hand over her neck feeling the dull bruises that had refused to leave her. She took in a deep breath her eyes gazing into the mirror at her broken, scared refection, her mind drifting back to that relentless memory. This was one that haunted her nightmares, the one that would never subside, the memory of her near death. It sent harsh shivers down her spine and across her body just thinking about it.

Catherine took in a deep breath, it was a silly little effort to calm herself down. She stood near the back of a tall tan building, one holding various files that the German command in France had gathered. It was her job on this little excursion to grab any and all information that pertained to herself and Remi. She glanced over her shoulder watching as a young private patrolled the main entrance, a machine gun in hand. Catherine leaned her head back on the brick wall pulling her pistol out from her dress. Cocking the safety she prepared herself for the worst, she hoped she wouldn't have to use her pistol this time.

Once more Catherine looked over, the private was looking the other way searching in the dark for a sound he had heard. Catherine took her chance slipping to the other side of the wall, walking steadily behind the young German. Raising her pistol she butted the private with the but of the gun knocking him down to the ground unconscious. Now of the hardest parts was behind her. Catherine took the machine gun in her hand, pulling the strap around her shoulder. The young German mumbled incoherently but he still remained asleep, a bright bruise forming on the back on his head.

Catherine walked up to the file-room door, kneeling down. She pulled a lockpick from her dress beginning to attempt to unlock the door. Time was of the essence and Catherine knew she didn't have long before another Private came snooping around. Her knuckles grew tight as the door still refused to open, Catherine began to act frantically, struggling to unlock the door. She could hear foot steps approaching, this was not good, she had to hurry.

At last the door gave a click, Catherine wasted no time in rushing in, closing the door behind her. Taking in a few heavy breaths, Catherine peered out through the glass as two patrol officers passed by. One stopped, noticing the unconscious soldier lying in the dirt. The other two Germans rushed to their comrade's aid, one calling on the radio. Another group came walking by, Catherine waited patiently as they cleared out. She felt an immediate sense of relief when the rest of the Germans finally walked off, she stood up brushing her hair from her eyes.

The room was relatively small compared to the outside, it was very tight and crowded with too much squeezed in all one place. Catherine moved over to the first cabinet beginning to carefully leaf through the various files. There were files on the Jews, known collaborators against the Reich, a full list of pure Aryan families that now lived in France for this village, and even some information on the known ranking officers stationed around various parts of France. Her eyes scanned almost all of the file cabinets until she finally found something of use to her. There in the second to last drawer was a file on Remi. Catherine leafed through the file looking for anything that could incriminate the Frenchman. Upon her search she found various notes made by Hans Landa on Remi's actions and people suspected of collaboration and harboring Jews. Catherine pulled the notes from the file stuffing them down the front of her dress for safe keeping. She placed the rest of Remi's file back in the cabinet, slowly closing it.

Catheirne walked back up to the door pulling her pistol into her hands again. This would be tricky to get past. Catherine waited watching the German's every move. The young man walked back around his icy eyes jumping to every sound he heard. Catherine now had an idea. She turned her gun positioning it over the base of one of the file cabinets and with one shift she banged the but of the gun onto its metallic surface.

The young German jumped at the noise quickly walking up to the door. He peered in looking for the source of the sound. Catherine dipped into the darkness, away from his view. The privet pulled a ring of keys from his tunic unlocking the door, walking slowly inside the room. He flipped on a light continuing to look around. Catherine pulled the machine gun in her arms, slowly crawling from her hiding space. She jumped up smacking the German with the gun. The man growled swatting the gun away from her. His icy blue eyes met with hers in one quick motion. Catherine took his moment of surprise to wrangle his own gun from his hands.

The German fought her off but in the processes getting his gun tossed across the room. He sneered at Catherine tackling her to the ground wrapping his hands around her neck. She could feel the air escape her throat in mere seconds as his grip continued to constrict her airway. Catherine clawed at his hands desperately trying to pry them from her throat. The German tightened his grip crushing her neck, Catherine could feel her head go numb from the loss of air. She reached over for her pistol desperately trying to reach it. Her finger tips grazed the end of it but it was still out of reach. Catherine began to kick harder, trying to drag herself to the pistol. Her hand reached the handle and now at last she finally had it in hand. Catherine raised the pistol shooting the German in the chest. He grunted, letting go immediately as the bullet made contact.

Catherine began to choke in air, gasping harshly, her chest felt tight as her lungs desperately filled themselves with as much air as they could hold. Her throat burned so harshly it was painful even to take in a single breath. Her hands were planted firmly on the ground as she tried to contain her self. The German spurted blood from his mouth, groaning harshly as he laid on the ground. Catherine could hear him shifting, she knew she had to get up and run. She pressed her hands onto the floor pushing herself up. Running to the door she threw it open but she was still to slow. The German pulled out his Walther firing his entire magazine at Catherine. Four of the eight shots met their mark, burying deep into Catherine's arm and shoulder. Catherine collapsed outside blood pouring relentlessly from her body. The pain she felt was like nothing she had ever experience in her entire life. She could feel the blood leave her body burning as it did. Catherine knew she could not just lay here in the dirt outside of the door.

Another grunt met her ears, the German was now on his feet and about to approach her again. Catherine pushed herself up pointing her gun at the door, waiting for him to come rear around. The German came walking around, Catherine took no time in firing a single shot into his skull. The man fell with a firm thud, making a mess as blood began to pool. Catherine walked back over pulling the uniform off the corpse, slipping it on. She tore her dress making it into a make-shift bandage for her arm and shoulder. Slipping on the Jodhpurs and tunic Catherine trudged on in the dark huddling to a darker area.

'I can't die here, not now.' She thought, as the sound of rushing footsteps crashed in her ears.

As a new line of German patrol came by Catherine slowly slipped from her hiding place, hopping to make it threw the now open exit. About five or such Germans rushed passed followed by a major and a colonel. Catherine moved in a quickened pace, wincing as the bullets dug deeper in her flesh with each step.

Meeting the face of a tall steel gate with no other way to make a way over, Catherine began to climb. The amount of pain she felt brought her to the brink of unconsciousness. Her head felt heavier and numb by the second, as she finally got over the barbed fence gashing more scars Catherine could no longer hold on. Her grip on the fence slipped from her grasp as her palms grew moist and clammy with fatigue. She landed on the opposite side with a dull and painful thud. More blood seeped from her fresh wounds in her legs and chest burning terribly as the razored barbed cuts were pulled and twisted from little movements. The German uniform she had donned was beginning to soak in blood as the minutes past, she needed a doctor and fast.

Catherine continued to trudge through the thick grass on the opposite side of the compound fence, the town car she had came in was just in her reach. Though despite how close she had come she could feel her body begin to shut down, her legs were giving out she had lost so much blood already. Catherine fell to the ground, her knees sinking into the dirt as she began to collapse. Her vision now a clouded mess of color, was of little help to her now. She could now only rely on her ears, but even then she could only hear the blood pounding in her skull. In the midst of this Catherine felt an arm wrap around her, but as her grip on reality was so far gone, she could hardly tell who had approached her.

"Come now Catherine, we have to get going!" Cried Remi cursing lowly under his breath in French as he heaved Catherine into a better position in his arms.

"Remi? W-What are you d-doing h-h-here?" Catherine could hardly speak now, her voice began to fade as her grip on conciousness began to slip away from her. More blood began to pool, her skin was a horrifying, sickly white, she looked like a husk of her normal self.

Remi grew anxious pulling and pushing Catherine into the town car. He could not let her die, not now, there was still much work to do, much more information to obtain.

Catherine tried to mumble something but her words were caught in her throat as blood pooled in her mouth. She took in one last look at her surroundings, as blurred as they were dipping into the blackness of unconsciousness.

* * *

"Catherine?" Called Hans from behind the bathroom door, knocking lightly once more pulling her from her memory.

"I-I'm about to come out," said Catherine calling back. She hastily pulled her dress over her head walking over to the door opening it.

On the other side was Hans who smiled at her still lightly bouncing on his heels. His smirk was unmistakable, pressing deep onto his face; that damn charming look he always seemed to have.

"I have put things off for quite too long, its time I have finished my work with you Catherine." Hans gestured over to the study once more, Catherine lingered in her place for a moment.

"I was under the impression you liked lingering on this Hans." She took one step towards him.

"Oh but I do, but it is not in my best interest to do what I like to now mein liebe." Hans watched as Catherine walked into the study, taking her seat at the desk. She looked up at him, a defiant expression spread plainly across her face.

"Come now Hans, I have answered your questions, I have divulged all the information I am willing to give you. There is nothing more for us to discuss."

Catherine refused to say another word to Hans, she folded her arms defiantly turning away from him for good measure. Hans laughed lightly, though he did not approve of this little act against him especially after how far he had gotten with her just the other day. It seemed to Hans that she would not go on without one final fight, she would hold on as much as she could.

"Oh mein Liebe, are you really going to act so strong now? After how much you have submitted to me already?"

Catherine felt a tinge of anger play at her but she did not move, she would not give Hans the gratification of a response from her. Hans felt his grin grow wider as he took another step towards her. He was now mere feet away from her now. Catherine focused her cobalt gaze away from Hans, she would prove to him that she would not be concurred so easily.

He moved over to her towering over her seated position. From this stance she had nowhere to run, putting Hans in the most benefit. He grasped her shoulders turning her back around to face him.

Once her eyes met his own once more, he slipped onto her lap straddling Catherine in her chair, his arms laying across her shoulders. She sat there with her breath in her throat as Hans looked down grinning wildly at her. He moved down to her neck, placing a soft tender kiss there. Catherine let a small gasp slip from her lips, Hans gave a pleased chuckle as he grazed his teeth on her neck. His hot breath poured over her sending an almost delightful shiver across her body.

"I heard your little confession mein liebe."

Catherine's eyes widened instantly, she felt her blood run cold just when she thought she had managed to finally gain some amount of control. Hans read her expression easily, he chuckled lowly lightly nibbling on her collar bone.

"I c-can explain t-t-that," she mumbled under a light groan. Catherine cursed herself as her act of defiance crumbled right before her eyes.

Hans flashed his grey eyes at her looking into her eyes. He had a wide pleasing grin clean on his lips as he watched Catherine shiver and whimper under him. He took great pleasure in watching Catherine submit to him with such simple gestures, ever touch made her vulnerable to him and he was loving every minute of it.

"Oh can you liebe? I'm sure there's nothing much to explain."

"You bloody bastard," she growled as a light moan pressed to her lips.

"Did you mean what you said? Do you truly love a bastard like me?" Hans chuckled against her neck, his voice muffled as it met her flesh.

"I-I don't know," she replied.

"Hmm that's not a good enough answer mein lieber," said Hans teasingly.

"T-That's all I have Hans! You confuse me and I don't know what to believe anymore!" Growled Catherine.

Hans pulled her from the chair and onto her feet holding her firmly against his chest his grey eyes staring sharply into her own. Catherine pulled back slightly but Hans only held tighter and more firmly than before.

"Did you mean it mein liebe?" He asked again.

"Y-Yes, I-I did," she replied feeling no longer up to putting forth this ruse.

"I want to hear you say it," he commanded, his voice strong an d unwavering.

"I-I,"

"Say it," he commanded again.

"I l-love you. I don't know why but I do."

Hans grinned, the lines in his face pressing deep into his skin.

"Sehr Gut."

He moved his lips over to hers, overcoming her in one swift and strong kiss. Catherine stood startled for a moment but surely so she slipped into the bliss of the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck and resting on his shoulders. Hans placed his hands firmly on her hips, pulling her out of the study down the short distance to his bedroom. Blindly, Hans flipped on the light continuing to place soft kisses on Catherine's lips. He turned her around, pushing her firmly on the bed, breathing heavily as they parted. His arms were now positioned on both sides of her face, his hips now straddling her waist as her hands pressed firmly into his shoulders.

Catherine felt her body tighten, her hands gripping the shoulders of his uniform tightly as he laid atop of her. Hans nuzzled his nose in her neck trailing kisses across her collarbone. He slipped her sleeves from her shoulders, placing a soft kiss on the now exposed skin. Hans' eyes drifted over four round scars right at the base of her arm and shoulder,

"It is a shame what they did to you Mein Schatz," he whispered his breath heavy. His mind began to mix with the thoughts of what caused such horrible scars, feeling a tinge of anger and sympathy cut at him. His fingers traced each line of her scars, lightly grazing over the many bullet holes in her soft flesh. Her grip on his shoulders tightened as his words left his lips, pulling her back to her memory.

Catherine felt her heart in her throat, pounding so hard she thought I would explode. Her breaths were sharp and tight as Hans let his fingers drag along her now bare skin, stroking every mark and scar as he did. His grey eyes mixed with hers in an almost blissful show of intensity. Catherine felt his lips touch her own in a soft chaste kiss, his hand smoothing back up to meet her cheek.

"H-Hans don't leave me," in that moment fear took her over, and thoughts of abandonment filled her mind. She leaned into his touch, pressing her cheek into his hand.

Hans felt himself tighten up around Catherine, her voice was so desperate, so lost, it had been long since he ever cared much about anyone. He smiled lightly leaning his forehead on hers,

"Ich nicht will, ich versprechen Sie mein Fräulein." (I wont, I promise you my Fräulein)

"Bitte lass mich nicht Hans,"(Please don't let me go) said Catherine rapping her arms around his neck as tears fell from her cobalt eyes.

Hans felt her grip grow tighter, holding himself firmly close to her. He could feel her fingers at the nape of his neck, playing in his short hairs. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, making him grin a little wider. Hans pulled her closer in a silent reply moving his lips to hers once more. Catherine let out a sigh, her grip loosening slightly as she lost herself in his kiss. The simple gesture was all she needed to reassure her, although that thought still lingered in her mind, it had lingered on with her for over three years now and even still it had not managed to leave her.

He pulled away slightly, moving his hand to her cheeks wiping her tears from her eyes. Hans' grey eyes tore deep into hers, he wanted to stultify his dominance, his control in her mind. His hands smoothed down her sides down the the bunched up hem of her dress at her thighs. Taking the fabric tightly in his hands, Hans roughly pulled the garment up forcing Catherine to release her grip on his neck for a moment.

Her chest heaved as Hans pulled away the rest of her dress from her body leaving her completely bare underneath him. He glanced down at his uniform, of which he was till fully clothed in. Hans followed Catherine's anxious eyes down his front to his trousers, his lips curling into a sly smirk. His member pressed against the tight wool fabric of his jodhpurs as his eyes continued to gaze at Catherine's bare body. Hans pulled on of her arms from his neck placing it on the train of buttons on his lengthy grey tunic. She began to blush her breathes becoming a little tighter as her fingers toyed with the first few buttons. Catherine couldn't help how nervous she felt, her mind was mixing with various thoughts and feelings as she began to slowly undress Hans. She never would have imagined herself in this situation, she could hardly believe it now.

Hans chuckled lowly placing a brief kiss on her lips, his hand slowly moving up her side, beginning to caresses and stroke one of her breasts. Catherine gasped as his cold hand came in contact with the tender flesh, causing her to stumble over one of his buttons.

"Aufgeregt mein liebling?" (Are you nervous my darling?) Chuckled Hans, whispering lightly in her ear.

"J-Ja aber n-nur ein bisschen," (Y-Yes but only a bit) replied Catherine stuttering lightly, her fingers still fumbling with his buttons.

"Es ist nicht notwendig zu bist Aufgeregt mit mir liebe," (There is no need to be nervous with me love)

Catherine took in a steadying breath, beginning to trail down his tunic once more. Her fingers met the final button, she began to hesitate once more. Hans looked down at her hands, watching as she stopped and began to linger. His hand took over hers, slipping the last button from the wool tunic at last letting it lose. The various medals and decorations began to chime and clang against each other as Hans slipped his uniform from his shoulders, landing in a pile beside him. He took Catherine's hand in his once more moving it down lower to his trousers, pressing her finger tips to the two buttons there. Her cheeks brightened up warm and deep scarlet as she began to fumble with the buttons of his uniform again. As the last button came undone, Catherine recoiled her hand moving it to her bare chest.

Hans locked eyes with Catherine once more as he slipped from his wool trousers, exposing his lower half with a sly smirk. His lips met her ear once more, his warm breath taking over her again. Catherine squirmed slightly though in the process causing herself to brush her entrance against Hans. She froze in place as he was so close to her, closer than any man had ever been with her. With one swift motion he could take her for himself, she was like an open book awaiting to be read for the first time.

Hans rolled his hips forward welling himself inside of her. Catherine cried out as a loop of pain rushed through her. She began to lock up as she could hardly stand it. Hans leaned forward resting his cheek against hers his voice softly cooing in her ear.

"Der Schmerz wird nachlassen."(The pain will pass) He whispered huskily.

Catherine winced sill trying to adjust herself to the foreign feeling taking her over. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her fingers twisting tightly in his hair.

"Es verletzt H-Hans," (It hurts H-Hans) cried Catherine in a tight, pained whimper.

"Shh, Shh, Ich wissen mein lieber. Ich wissen."(Shh, Shh I know my dear. I know.)

Catherine buried her face in his neck, her fingers still gripping tightly in his hair. She panted heavily feeling the pain begin to subside. Hans placed a soft kiss on her neck, softly stroking down her side his hand finally resting on her hip. Catherine bit down in her lip, rocking her hips forward experimentally. Her body tightened up as she expected to feel pain when instead she was met with a wave of pleasure that flew over her. She gasped, moaning lightly desperately wanting to feel that sensation again. Hans let out a breath grinning wildly, beginning to slowly pick up a pace. His hips rocked forward again sending Catherine writhing with satisfaction.

"H-Hans!" she choked out his name through a muffled moan as she bit down on her lip, but her attempts to suppress her groans were in vain.

Hans grinned mischievously loving the sound of his name on her lips, he wanted to hear it again. He panted lightly pushing himself harder inside her, his knuckles white to the bone as he tightly gripped her hips. Catherine wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as her fingers desperately tugged at his hair. Hans nuzzled his nose in her neck, biting harshly at the tender flesh as he continued to well himself deep inside the young woman in his arms. Catherine cried out once more her nails digging deep into his back as she moaned his name again. Hans let out a groan turning over on his back, for once giving Catherine control. Catherine pressed her hands into his shoulders, a bit uneasy with her new position. She rolled her hips forward in one slow motion, receiving a satisfied groan from Hans as she did.

"M-Mehr mein schöne Frau," groaned Hans beginning to stammer.

Catherine could hardly believe she made _The Hans Landa _stammer, she made the infamous "Jew Hunter" of France submit to her. But this little triumph was short lived however as Hans turned her back over giving a irritated yet playful growl reasserting his dominance over her..

"Ich sagen mehr Catherine!" He commanded again through a husky breath.

Catherine could hardly stand the tension welling up inside her, tightening and tightening as Hans continued to press himself inside her. Her chest heaved roughly, her fingers intertwining in his hair again. She felt this strong overwhelming feeling of pleasure begin to boil and boil pushing her to the brink. She was losing all grip with reality all that was left was the pure bliss she felt as she etched closer and closer to the edge. It only took one more motion from Hans to send her the rest of the way as he hit the perfect mark, sending Catherine into pure ecstasy. Hans let out a low satisfied groan as Catherine screamed his name, he felt close to his own climax as the seconds past. With one final trust Hans groaned harshly, filling Catherine with his seed.

Hans took in a deep steadying breath, pulling from Catherine and falling on to the sheets beside her. He laid panting roughly, with a wide smirk on his lips. Catherine began to catch her breath, she snuggled into Hans' arms burring her face in his chest.

* * *

**Author Note_:_** I'm worried I made Hans too soft in this part, what do you guys think? Oh and I hope my lemon wasn't too terrible, its been A LONG time since I have written one so I'm kinda nervous about this. and again my German is not too good so if you see any mistakes let me know! And here we have the second to last chapter, only one more to go! I'm going to miss this story! Well till next time my lovelies! Hope you enjoyed this new chapter!

_-WhiteNoisePhantom_


	13. Part Thirteen

Part Thirteen:

Catherine woke up the following morning, letting out a yawn. She winced slightly as she began to move, her lower half was practically shouting in protest. With her laid head back looking over to her side, she noticed Hans was not laying there beside her. Catherine felt like a shell of herself. Her mind drifted to that moment she shared with Hans, one she could never take back. She smoothed her arm over the empty side of his bed, feeling the tinge of warmth left there.

She never would have thought she would surrender fully to Hans, or even at all. It seemed all it took were for him to push the right buttons, oh and did he find the right ones to press.

She felt like a weak fool, so easily taken over by that of simple deception. Oh but she could still hear his sweet voice whispering beautiful nothings in her ear, coaxing every last word and will from her lips. For he was like the devil, and she so easily tempted by the allure of that of the other side. Catherine turned over on her side, holding the bed sheet tightly to her bare chest. She closed her eyes, mulling over all the faces of those she crossed; Pierre, Remi, her father, Aldo, Donny, the other Basterds and lastly Hans. He was always there, always the first and last thought in her mind now.

She groaned lightly as the dull pain in her hips still lingered, there were footsteps outside of the door and the knob began to turn. Hans took a step into the room, straightening his uniform as he did.

"A-are you going somewhere again?" Catherine didn't know what compelled her to question him, she averted her eyes, looking down at the pristine white bed sheets.

"As a matter of fact I am." Hans took a few lengthy strides toward her, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Catherine stumbled over her words, her hands bunching up tightly within the sheets. Her eyes still remained away from Hans, but he leaned in toward her, back in her line of vision.

"I am needed elsewhere for right now, I'm sure you can take care of yourself while I'm gone," Said Hans.

Catherine looked up at him for a moment, she still felt considerably nervous around Hans. He flashed a brief smile at her his eyes meeting hers for a moment.

"I am a detective, a damn good one at that. Let me do my job and I'll be back." Hans' smile shifted more into a smirk as he placed a small chaste kiss in her lips.

"Auf Wiedersehen," said Catherine lightly as he walked out the door.

* * *

Torsten Ehret, once a major sat in a bar mulling over his recent demotion. The young major had been stripped of his rank due to his inability to properly carry out his case on the known informant Catherine Albrecan. It had been about two weeks since then, and the SS did not look kindly upon poor performance. Ehret wished he had put that bullet in Catherine's skull rather than the damn Frenchman, he would still have his proper rank then.

Ehret let out a low growl, his mind still mulling over Catherine. Hell if he just knew where she was it wouldn't even matter making it up to the SS, it would be to make it up to himself. He pulled a reichmark from his pocket tossing it on the bar. As he began to walk out he heard a few enlisted men mumbling on about Standartenführer Landa and the girl he had kept up in his town house for a few weeks now. Ehret shook his head assuming it was just another bloody rumor circling around.

"Ja und ihr namen ist Catherine." (Yeah, and her name is Catherine) Muttered one of the men. Oh this definitely was worth Ehret's attention.

Ehret thought for a moment, could the simple prattle of the men possibly be true, if so Ehret knew exactly where he was going next. Pushing past the drunken enlisted men, Ehret made his way outside, he knew it wouldn't be too hard to find out where Colonel Landa's townhouse was. It was still a bit early, he had plenty of time to go snooping around.

* * *

Hans walked into a basement bar, it was obvious there had been a shoot out here. There were various bodies of French and Germans alike; but something seemed very odd about this. Walking nimbly around the bodies his eyes carefully surveyed the faces of the dead, looking for clues to piece things together.

As he continued to walk around his eyes met a familiar face, that of Hugo Stiglitz. Hans looked at the bludgeoned beaten, bullet ridden body with a smug smirk. He kicked the body of the murderous German traitor, chuckling lightly as he did. Hans looked over at the other three bodies, of which were another one of the Basterds Wilhelm Wiki, one unknown body, and a fellow SS officer, Strumbannführer Dieter Hellstrom.

Hans looked over behind his shoulder at the men behind him, standing idly waiting for his command. It was obvious that with two members of the Basterds lying dead in this bar something rather odd had been going on.

* * *

Ehret looked down at the address in his hand a dark smirk toying on his lips. His icy blue eyes flashed darkly as he approached the main door. He could hear footsteps on the other side but he knew well enough that they did not belong to Hans. The German pulled a lockpick from his tunic, slipping it into the knob of the door silently unlocking the door. The sound of footsteps stopped for a moment, Ehret slowly began to walk in. He closed the door behind himself, his eyes darting around looking for any possible place she could be hiding.

Catherine was nowhere to be seen, Ehret took in a breath of relief, happy to know he would still have the element of surprize. He looked down the hallway seeing a bright light shine under the door of one of the rooms. Approaching as quietly as he could manage, Ehret walked towards the door, his hand wrapping around its handle. He turned the knob slowly, opening the door just enough for him to see inside the room. There laying fast asleep was Catherine Albrecan.

Ehret felt his body boil at the sight of her peaceful state, he walked closer towards her his eyes focused intently. Catherine turned sleepily her hands tightening around the sheets of the bed. Ehret took another step closer he was mere inches away from her now. He positioned his hands on the sides of her shoulders, his eyes glancing down at her bare skin. Part of him felt disgusted that a man of Hans' status would even bother with her, though what he was planning was not far from it.

Catherine's eyes began to flutter, as she tried to move but found something was stopping her. There was an unknown pressure on her wrists holding her down, her eyes slowly opened to find a rabid looking blonde hair, blue eyed German staring her down. Upon her first instinct she kicked and tried to push the man away but he would have none of that.

"Lass mich gehen!" (Let me go!) Growled Catherine trying to fight off her attacker. The German laughed haughtily, his warm alcohol stained breath meeting her skin.

"Nein," (No) He said darkly. Ehret moved one of his hands from her wrists giving her a firm smack across the face. She growled continuing to fight at the German's grip.

Ehret was becoming irritated with this, he took hold of Catherine's bullet scarred shoulder pressing one of his fingers in one of the wounds. Catherine screamed as pain surged through her arm, instantly she stopped kicking her mind shifting rapidly to the pain in her arm. Fresh blood dripped down her chest from her shoulder, pooling lightly in Ehret's hand.

Ehret ripped his tunic from his shoulders, tossing it quickly and seamlessly aside. He looked down at Catherine with a hungry, lust-filled gaze, ripping away the sheet that separated her bare body from his. Despite the pain in her shoulder, Catherine continued to fight him off but that only made Ehret angrier. He pressed his hand deeper in her shoulder causing her to scream again only this time he did not pull his hand away. Catherine continued to cry out as Ehret slowly, and harshly ripped his fingers through her scars partially reopening some.

"Du werde verhalten jetzt, Ja?" (You'll behave now, yes?) asked Ehret darkly his finger still lingering in her flesh.

Ehret grinned slowly taking his hand from her shoulder, wiping the blood on his trousers. Catherine panted harshly her mind numb from the pain in her arm. She could hardly believe this was happening, she didn't even know this man but yet he knew her name.

* * *

Hans walked out of the bar, followed by the train of men behind him. It was getting quite dark now, it was far past noon already. Hans gave a round of commands to the men, walking back to the town car he came in. Part of him was a little anxious, not that he had any worries about Catherine but subconsciously his mind dwelled on it. Like always his true emotions never transpired clearly on his face, he was still a clear image of stillness.

The town car stopped back at the townhouse, Hans waved off the driver walking up towards the door. As he pulled his keys to unlock the door he found it to be already open. Hans replaced the keys in his coat pocket walking inside. As he walked in he could hear dull muffled sounds coming from his bedroom. Hans' hand gravitated to his Lugar pistol as he approached the door. With his other hand he pushed the door open, seeing what went on, on the other side.

Catherine heard the door open, her hands jerked up again trying to push Ehret from her as he continued his assault on her. She could see a tinge of anger meet Hans' eyes, his face contorted into rage filled grimace. Hans took no time in jerking the German away from Catherine, his face red with an anger she had never seen from him before.

Hans pulled Ehret up from the ground shoving him into the opposite wall. Pointing the lugar pistol firmly into the German's neck. All amount of power Ehret felt in that moment had diminished in a mere second as he stared right into the face of the infamous Colonel Landa.

"H-Herr Oberst, Ich-" (C- Colonel, I-) Hans would not let Ehret finish his sentence, he pressed his pistol harder into his flesh his gaze filled with an unmistakable bloodlust.

Ehret flinched watched as Hans finger dangled over the trigger, but he did not fire. Hans gave a subtle but dark chuckle, moving the pistol from the German's neck. Ehret looked reluctantly at Hans to no longer find an enraged grimace stretched across his face. The colonel grinned a teasing smile, tapping the end of his Lugar idly on the mans neck.

"Wer bist du?" (Who are you?) He asked calmly.

"T-Torsten Ehret, Herr Oberst." (Torsten Ehret, Colonel)

"Ach so Herr Ehret, was tun Sie vorschlagen ich tun?" (Oh Mr. Ehret, what do you suggest I do?) Asked Hans his Austrian accented voice light as if he were discussing simple pleasantries.

"Herr Oberst?" (Colonel?) Ehret could hardly understand what was going on. Hans pressed his lugar to the German's temple, an almost sadistic grin meeting his lips.

"Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Ehret." (Goodbye, Mr. Ehret) With that the lugar fired sending one clean shot through the German's skull.

Hans let the body fall without a single thought more, he placed his pistol in his coat approaching Catherine lightly. She had tears in her eyes, blood coated her arm and chest and stained the once bright white sheets. Catherine latched onto Hans, her hands gripping the sleeves of his leather coat tightly.

"What happened?" He asked.

"H-He came in here, and-" Catherine couldn't manage to finish, she buried her face into Hans' tunic still holding onto him tightly.

Hans' eyes moved over to her shoulder which was soaked in a layer of her own blood. He knelt down, pulling Catherine fully into his arms. Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck trying all she could to snuff out the image of Ehret from her mind. Hans carried Catherine into the bathroom lightly setting her down. Catherine would not let go, her arms still snaked around his neck in a tight iron grip.

"Mein liebe," he said in a low whisper.

Catherine held tighter for a moment before reluctantly letting him go. Hans moved over to the bathroom cabinet, sifting through the various items inside till he found what he needed. He grabbed a bottle of peroxide and a new role of bandages, closing the cabinet. Moving back over to Catherine, Hans poured the peroxide over his fingertips making sure it coated most of his hand.

Slowly he rubbed his hand over the freshly opened scars causing Catherine to jerk back slightly from the pain. Hans held her down by her other shoulder as he continued to rub the liquid over her wounds. Once that was over he took a pair of bandages in his hand, two of the three bullet wounds had been practically torn open. With very light hands Hans began to wrap her arm and shoulder, watching not to wrap too tightly. As he finished he moved his hands from her, taking a moment to look over his work.

"How do you feel?" Asked Hans, though part of him knew that wasn't the proper question to ask.

"Better." Said Catherine briefly in reply. She moved her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Hans stood up, now towering over Catherine again. He shook off his long leather trench coat tossing it around her shoulders giving her at least something to put on.

"I will have to leave you again, tomorrow night." Said Hans almost reluctantly.

"Why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"There is a film premiere being held here in France, of which I am security director and even still it would be my proper place to attend."

"Please don't let this happen to me again," said Catherine in a pleading voice. Hans looked down at Catherine, bending lower to her level. Catherine wrapped her arms around Hans' neck once more, letting him pull her back into his embrace.

"Get some rest, put this behind you." Said Hans from behind her hair. Catherine rested her head on his shoulders wishing she could forget all that transpired today.

* * *

**Author Note:** _Ok I changed my mind, this is not the last part! There will be one more after this. Anyway I have a feeling the whole scene with Ehret comes slightly out of nowhere, reason being I felt that I introduced his character and then just did nothing with him, and I knew it would be sloppy or lazy to not resolve his character, so here lies my reasoning. Well I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, happy reading!_

_-WhiteNoisePhantom_


	14. The Final Chapter (Part Fourteen)

Part Fourteen:

_The Final Chapter_

Catherine gripped the hem of Hans' shirt tightly as she continued to drift in a sleepy mid conscious state. She had yet to fall asleep the entire night, simply drifting from in between asleep and awake. Hans laid at her side, his arm around her waist fast asleep. It was three in the morning now, and Catherine's mind mixed rapidly with the thoughts from the other night. Catherine shivered harshly, pulling Hans closer to herself as if you use him to protect her from the inevitable memory. She turned around, facing him her now wide open cobalt eyes trialing down the features of his sleepy face. It was a pleasant change to see him at such ease, rather than the sly smooth face of charm and eloquence that he always courted around. Catherine smiled, although only slightly at this little realization. Resting her head on his chest she listened to the steady drum of his heartbeat and felt the continuous rise and fall of his lungs. He seemed to be the only constant thing in her life now, everyone else and all she knew was now but a distant shadow of the past that she could hardly see.

But still there was that inevitable question that surfaced in her mind, why had she fallen for the likes of him and why so easily? He had pushed, and pushed and he had gotten clearly through; in the end she wanted in him to, she desired it even. Hans seemed to know all the right things to do for her to fall right into his hands, with not a word or motion out of place. She thought back again to her father, such a steadfast man, oh how he would look down on her now. Catherine gave herself willingly to the enemy she and her father had sought to take down; but she would be absolutely lying if she were to say she regretted it.

* * *

It was the night of the premiere, Hans stood by a telephone, waiting patiently to be connected to the German compound. The phone rang loosely for a minute before the other end finally picked up.

"Hallo?"

"Ja, das ist Standartenführer Hans Landa," (Yes, this is Colonel Hans Landa)

"Ach, Guten Abend Herr Oberst. Was kann ich tun für sie," (Oh good afternoon Colonel. What can I do for you?)asked the person on the other end.

"Ich will zwei Männer zu komm Wache eine Frau in meiner Sorge während ich weg bin ," (I want two men to come watch a woman in my care while I'm away)

"Ja Herr Oberst."

Hans put the phone back on the receiver without another word, now all of that was take care of other matters on hand. Once more he donned his dress tunic, a pair of white dress gloves were tucked neatly into his belt. He looked over his appearance briefly before walking back into his room for a moment. Catherine was still fast asleep, though her face was still tightened in a sore frown. He moved over to her for a moment placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Auf Wiedersehen mein schatz."

* * *

A few hours past, it was the brink of nightfall. Hans stood outside and greeted the two men who would be watching Catherine while he was gone. The men looked extremely uneasy in the colonel's presence, something Hans was used to and actually quite fond of at times.

The two young men clicked their heels in salute as Hans got into the town car, on his way to the film premiere. Hans grinned slightly, watching them for as long as he could as the car drove past. Despite his lack of faith in the men Hans felt considerably better about leaving than he would if they weren't there at all. At least with them in place it would deter any sort of action like what happened the night before.

* * *

Remi looked over from the corner at the town house, glancing down at a scrawled address on a crumpled piece of paper. This was definitely the place, he could see the two Wehrmacht soldiers standing idly by the door almost in a sleepy daze. The Frenchman laughed lightly to himself, they would be an easy obstacle to dispose of.

With two clean shots the men went down on right after the other in one swift, clean, calculated motion.

Remi now stood directly outside of the town house, his pistol in his hand. The two Wehrmacht soldiers laid in a heap at his feet, he had hardly made a sound disposing of them

His arm still ached from the rain of bullets it encountered, he still marveled that he was still alive. He focused his gaze at the town house, a deep rage burning on his mind. The German's found out about his service as an informant and he knew exactly how, Catherine.

'That bitch, I'll make sure she gets what she deserves!' he growled haughtily, his grip tightening around his pistol.

Remi walked up to the door of the house, taking a quick look at the lock. He kneeled down on one knee, beginning to pick the lock. This was hardly any trouble for the Frenchmen, for he had to do this quite often to acquire most of his information. The door gave a firm click telling Remi the door was now unlocked. Remi smiled an almost evil smile, pushing the unlocked door open. He took a few steps in, breathing in deeply, he was now even closer to finishing his business with Catherine.

* * *

Catherine looked over her shoulder, she could hear the click of the door and the sound of footsteps in the hall. Her heart lifted for a moment as she realized Hans was back. She did not move, she waited for him to renter the room, though she wondered why he lingered. His footsteps were heavy as if he were dragging his feet, this puzzled Catherine. She sat up in the bed, still holding the sheet to her chest. Her cobalt eyes stared right at the door, waiting for Hans to enter the room. The door gave a click as the knob was turned, but as the door opened fully Catherine came to realize just who really was behind the door.

Remi threw the door the rest of the way open, his rage boiling over when he saw Catherine lying naked in Hans' bed. He sprinted towards her, blocking her route of escape. Grabbing hold of her wrists Remi pinned her back down, holding her legs down with his knees.

"I knew it! I knew it!" he growled, "You dirty whore, you told him about me didn't you!" Catherine tried to fight back but the Frenchman only held tighter.

"N-No, I did not tell him a-anything!" Catherine tried to explain to him but he would not listen. Her heart stopped, her mind instantly being pulled back to the terrible memory of the other night. She fought harder, trying to release herself from Remi's grip, she would not allow herself to slip back into what happened before.

"The Germans found out! How do you explain that Catherine?" Remi jabbed his pistol in Catherine's ribs causing her to yelp, causing her to stop fighting briefly.

"I didn't tell Hans anything Remi, please y-you have to believe me!" Catherine tried her hardest to push him off of her but Remi was far too heavy.

"Why should I believe you, look at where you are!" Remi felt his rage boil even more fervently at the thought that Catherine slept with Hans, he could only imagine all the information he got out of her.

"Remi please I didn't tell him about you!" Remi wouldn't hear it he shook his head gritting his teeth as he jutted his pistol father into Catherine's ribs. He pulled his shirt back showing Catherine the bullet holes in his arm and shoulder.

"Look what you've caused! All because you couldn't keep your mouth or your legs closed!" Spat the Frenchman his voice full of hate and malice.

"And you know its also because of you Pierre is dead as well! That poor boy didn't deserve to die, especially for the likes of you!"

"P-Pierre is d-dead?" Catherine felt as if part of her soul was ripped in two, tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes burning, she didn't want to believe it.

"Damn right he is, he died protecting you!"

"B-But how, when I left h-he was still alive," asked Catherine behind a choked sob.

"The Germans went looking for you and they found him instead," growled Remi, "And because of you my son is dead!"

"He was y-your son?"

"yes, but he never knew. It doesn't matter anymore, but I sure as hell will make sure the bitch responsible pays for what she did, what you did!"

Remi pressed the pistol to Catherine's head, his hand pressing into her wounded shoulder. Catherine yelp at his touch, gritting her teeth harshly. She could feel Remi's hand shake as if he were hesitating. His eyes met hers for a moment, he couldn't seem to manage to keep eye contact with her. Catherine watched as he looked away for moment, giving her a window of opportunity. She jerked her wrist up knocking the pistol from his hand taking him by surprise. Catherine took this moment to knock the Frenchman back taking the gun into her hands.

"Go on shoot me, you've already done so much already." Said Remi darkly raising his arms in the air.

"I don't want to kill you Remi! I won't"

"You bloody wench, you have enough backbone to spit out my name to that fucking nazi but you can't shoot me your self? I should have expected that much!"

"I won't, I didn't tell Hans anything Remi! I put my life on the line for you, I took bullets for you and now you call me a traitor?"

Remi gritted his teeth launching himself towards Catherine, as he reached for the gun a single shot left the barrel going clean through the Frenchman's heart. Remi choked on his last breath of air, blood beginning to rise and pool in his mouth. He fell to the ground, without another word uttered.

Hans felt a big sense of accomplishment come over him as Aldo and Utivich were hauled away. He had secured for himself the perfect escape and future, there was little chance for any Jewish retribution to be acted upon him with the deal he made. Though there was still something left, Catherine. What was to happen to dear Catherine? Hans pulled his coat from the chair, pulling it on. His life was now well secured but then that left her and there was still one part of him that would not sit well with leaving her in France. There was no telling what could happen, in either circumstance.

He walked outside where a driver was waiting. Hans told the driver his address and got into the town car, he would have much to get together and quickly.

The car stopped at the townhouse, but as Hans saw the two dead Wehrmacht men lying dead in the dirt he expected the worst. Once more a rare tinge of fear met with his mind, all he could think about was Catherine and if once more she had been attacked. Hans ran into his bedroom seeing Catherine coated in blood a pistol in her hands, her cobalt eyes fixated on the dead body of Remi Lefévre.

Hans walked up to Catherine, who seemed to be lost to the world. He walked up beside her, placing his hands lightly on her shoulder.

"Catherine," he called out. Catherine seemed as if she had woken up from a daze, she looked up at Hans wrapping her arms around his neck holding onto him tight.

"I-I killed him," she said in a low hushed voice.

Hans took the pistol from her hand placing it aside. He looked down at the corpse of Remi, finding that for a second time Catherine had nearly died. Hans felt Catherine shake in his arms, obviously in shock from what she had done.

"Mein liebe calm down," commanded Hans lightly. Catherine buried her face in his shoulder, rubbing the tears from her eyes onto his tunic. She didn't want to kill Remi, he was practically a mentor to her, well he was the one her father told her to go to.

Catherine took in a few harsh breaths, Hans stood still and silent with her waiting for her to say something. He took this moment of silence, mulling over his previous thoughts. The deal he made with the Americans would only suffice for himself, although after this he couldn't leave Catherine here in France.

Hans moved from Catherine for a moment, she looked up at him with a confused expression lining her face. She could decipher nothing from his expression, but she saw his lips subtly curve into a small smile.

"I have made a deal with the American's."

"What kind of deal?" Asked Catherine, utterly stunned to hear such words leave his lips.

"The european trials of the war will come to an end, most likely it will be declared sometime tonight or tomorrow."

"How I thought-"

"I believe the cause of this lies in the hands of The Basterds and of course, myself included." Hans replied with a light show of pride, his mind wandered back to the brief meeting he had with the two remaining Basterds.

"Then where does that leave you, or me?" Catherine had no idea where to go now, and in her mind she knew well enough of Hans' infamy; there was no doubt he would be tried as a war criminal . Hans grinned wider, having an idea that she was thinking just that. It was clear to him that this thought crossed her mind just by the pained expression on her face.

"I made a deal with them, I will not be fed to the dogs in this instance, and if I can help it neither will you."

Aldo Raine sat in the back of a truck, his hands cuffed behind his back with Utivich sitting opposite of him in the same position. Aldo was still raw about the fact that the bastard Landa was going to get away from all of this with clean hands. He wanted to really make Hans suffer, just for a moment at least.

The truck stopped, Aldo fell forward at the sudden jerk. He mumbled a line of curses, pulling himself back up. The back doors of the truck opened, there stood Hans grinning wildly at the two men. Aldo stood up jumping out first, followed by Utivich. The American glared harshly at the Austrian colonel, who seemed very pleased with himself. Catherine slowly steps out herself, walking sheepishly towards the remaining Basterds.

"Donny was right about you," said Aldo bluntly as Hans uncuffed him and Utivich.

Hans moved his hand over the small SS dagger at his hip, glancing down at it for a brief moment. He handed Aldo the dagger, with an almost half hearted tone,

"I am officially surrendering myself over to you, Lieutenant Raine. We are now your prisoners."

Aldo took the dagger with a grin, placing it in the front of his belt. He looked over to Utivich who stood waiting for his order. Aldo glanced over at Catherine, his bowie knife resting in his hand.

"Utivich, cuff the colonel's hands around his back, Catherine too."

"Is that really necessary," asked Hans as his hands were pulled behind his back and handcuffed by Utivich.

Catherine felt her hands tugged roughly behind her back, being cuffed just like Hans was. Aldo took a single glance at Hans before moving over to Catherine.

"So what finally made you jump ship?" Asked Aldo slightly glaring at Catherine.

"I never did," she replied though she knew well enough her words didn't mean a damn thing to Aldo.

"You hear that Utivich, do you believe it?"

"Not a damn bit sir." Said Utivich in reply.

"I saw you with him, and don't tell me you weren't." Said Aldo brandishing his bowie knife near her cheek.

"That doesn't mean I betrayed you," said Catherine strongly, her face set in a stony gaze.

"You know I might of believed you, that is if the rest of my men weren't dead."

"I am sorry, truly that they are dead but it is by no fault of mine!" Catherine's voice moved into a growl, wavering quickly from her calm tone.

Aldo grasped the collar of her cloths jerking her up, he began to speak lower and with a sharp voice.

"Bullshit!" He growled, the edge of the bowie knife coming dangerously closer to her neck.

Hans jerked towards Catherine, his eyes focused on the knife at her throat. He knew that Catherine was worthless to the British and the Americans now, it wouldn't mean a damn thing if Aldo killed her where she stood; they only needed him afterall. Hans felt a hand grasp the chain of his cuffs, looking back behind his shoulder stood Utivich holding him in place.

Aldo looked over at Hans for a brief moment seeing his subtle reaction to what he was doing to Catherine. An idea came to mind, Aldo moved from Catherine for a moment, dangling his knife in his hand.

"Utivich, make sure the colonel stays in place will you." Said Aldo looking at Utivich for a short moment.

He didn't have to say it twice, Utivich placed his other hand firmly on Hans shoulder immobilizing him for the time being. Aldo grinned lightly, raising his knife back to Catherine's neck.

"So what to do with you," said Aldo a bit to himself.

"I told you I did not betray you Aldo, why would I?"

"Why not? Thats the real question. Oh it must have been nice to be the little privileged pet of colonel Landa, hmm?" Aldo looked at her with a raised brow, waiting for her to put forth her answer.

"You misunderstand, what ever you saw me do means nothing; I never told Hans anything!" Catherine could hardly hold back the malice in her voice.

Aldo ran his hand through hair, laughing lightly. This small show of aggression on Catherine's part did hardly anything to sway his mind. He knew what he saw and he would make sure that Catherine pay just as much as Hans for what she did to them. Aldo pushed Catherine down on the ground, pressing his knee on the base of her lower back.

"Now since you you ain't a Nazi, I'll be handling you a little different." Said Aldo pushing part of her dress away from her shoulders.

Hans could plainly see what Aldo was doing, he jerked and pulled at Utivich's grip trying to break away and push Aldo from Catherine. Aldo heard Hans struggle trying to move from Utivich to no avail; he laughed lightly looking back at Catherine.

"It seems your boy ain't too happy now."

"Get off of her!" Growled Hans, only this one time could Catherine hear desperation in his voice.

Aldo ignored the colonel, instead keeping his focus on Catherine. He twisted the knife in his hand to where he held the handle with one hand and pressed his palm on its end.

"This won't feel too good," said Aldo plainly, pressing the blade in the base of her upper back.

Catherine cried out as the razor sharp blade penetrated her flesh. Aldo did not waste anytime in cutting into her again, cutting small letters in her skin. Hans stood helpless watching as Catherine cried out, once calling his name. He growled at Aldo snapping at him again to let her go. Aldo ignored the colonel's cries once again simply replying by cutting deeper into Catherine's back. With one final stroke of his knife his work was done, Aldo took a moment to look over his work his grin still plastered on his lips. Aldo stood up from Catherine, wiping the blood from the blade in the grass.

"Now its time to deal with you," said Aldo walking up to Hans.

As Aldo began to prattle on with Hans, Catherine tried to get back up but found that she couldn't. Blood dripped down her back and shoulder harshly, the fresh cuts burning like hell. Utivich looked down at Catherine feeling a tinge of sympathy hit him, he wasn't quite so fervently fixated on the thought of Catherine being a traitor, he still had his doubts. He took a few steps over to Catherine helping her up from the ground. Catherine groaned as the blood dripped more down her arm from her cuts.

She looked over at where Hans and Aldo were, but they were no longer standing. Aldo held Hans down with his knees, about to carve a swastika in his forehead. Hans screamed harshly, his hands digging in the earth under his hands, trying to handle the pain. Aldo seemed to enjoy carving into Hans more than he did Catherine. Utivich moved over to Aldo's side, watching as he carved the last lines of the Swastika.

"You know somethin' Utivich, I think this might just be my masterpiece."

* * *

_**Author Note:**__ And here we have the final chapter, oh it kills me to end this story especially considering how long I've been working on it! Well I guess everything has to end at some point. Oh yes and of course the end is lined with movie quotes "I couldn't resist" I suppose and I think they kept the overall shape of things in line too. Well thanks again to my lovely readers and reviewers! I probably would not have finished if not for you kind words of support and encouragement! Thanks again, from yours always,_

_-WhiteNoisePhantom_

**_7/30/13: There is a sequel to this story, It is called "A Vendetta For The Hunter" It is currently posted on my page. _**


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